Immortal Sins (26 page)

Though he would have said it was impossible, a single tear slid down her cheek. When she spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper.
“Rourke, I want you to destroy the painting.”

“No! Never! Do not ask such a thing of me.”

He captured her tear on the tip of his finger and pressed it to his lips. They had been through much together. He loved her. He thought she loved him, though neither of them had ever spoken the words aloud. He swore under his breath. Being a part of his life had brought her nothing but trouble and pain. There was no guarantee that that would change in the near future. He would never really belong in this time and place. As long as she was mortal, there would always be a gulf between them that neither of them could bridge. Yet another reason to bring her across.

“I am asking,”
she said quietly.
“You said there was no third choice, but there is. I can’t feel anything, so it shouldn’t hurt. I’ll just cease to exist.”

“No! No, no, no.”

“If you love me…”

He heard the quiet desperation in her voice, the underlying note of fear and anguish.

If you love me
…

He had heard that true love was unselfish, that one who loved deeply and sincerely put the needs and wants of his beloved before his own desires. But how could he destroy Karinna without destroying himself, he thought bleakly. And then he frowned. Perhaps that was the answer. He could ask Vega to burn the painting. In her current state, Karinna would not be aware of what was happening. As for himself, everyone knew vampires burned quickly. The pain, however excruciating it might be, would not last long.

He shook the thought from his mind. He would not destroy the painting. He would not destroy whatever chance of happiness they might have. He would not let Vilnius win.

“Rourke?”

“I cannot, sweeting.”
He shook his head.
“I cannot destroy you, not while there is a chance that we can break the curse and be together.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll hate you for it. You said I could choose.”

He brushed a kiss across her lips.
“Hate me if you will. Hate me as much as you wish for as long as you wish, but let us hope you can do it on the other side of this accursed glass.”

She couldn’t give voice to her unhappiness, but he knew she was weeping inside. Her anguish tore at his heart, but he couldn’t let it weaken his decision, not now. It was their only hope. No matter how remote the chance of success, he had to try. Even if she never forgave him, even if he could never again hold her in his arms, he had to try.

He didn’t put her to sleep this time. The moment he linked his mind to hers, she fought against him, but his will was too strong for her to resist.

Wanting to make the change as pleasant for her as possible, he mentally carried her into the cottage and lowered her onto the soft mattress, then covered her body with his own.

“No! No!”
She struggled against him, but he held her down easily. And then he kissed her, ever so slowly and tenderly. Her nails raked his face, her fists pummeled his chest. He made no move to protect himself as she bucked and twisted beneath him, but as his kisses deepened, her own body betrayed her.

His tongue laved her neck, and then, as gently as he could, he pierced the tender flesh below her left ear with his fangs, and drank. He closed his eyes as her life’s essence flowed into him, thick and hot and sweet. He drank her life and her memories, drank until her heartbeat slowed, and she was at the point of death.

Pulling back, Rourke licked the wounds in her throat to seal them, then made a shallow gash in his left wrist and lifted it to her lips.

“Drink, love.”
It was a command, softly spoken, but a command nonetheless, one she was helpless to deny.

Caught up in his preternatural power, she did as bidden.

He threw back his head in ecstasy, reveling in the touch of her mouth against his flesh, in the hope that their mingled blood would have the power to restore her life and, hopefully, break the wizard’s enchantment.

She tried to cling to his arm when he drew his wrist away, but she was no match for his greater strength. He ran his tongue over the wound in his wrist, then cradled her to his chest.

He held her close as long as he dared, then released his hold on her mind. Exhausted by what he had done to her, Karinna fell into a deep, deathlike sleep.

As the sun’s light chased the darkness from the sky, Rourke regretfully left the painting. It would have been pleasant to keep his mind linked to hers, to continue the charade that they were lying side by side on the bed in the cottage, but he couldn’t remain.

Going into the linen closet in the hallway, Rourke grabbed a couple of thick blankets. After returning to the living room, he hung one of the blankets over the painting, then draped the other one over the curtains on the front window, lest the rising sun find Karinna and destroy her.

Her mortal body would die with the dawn. He only hoped the wizard’s evil curse would die with her.

Rourke glanced at the sky as he hurried toward the shed in the backyard. He could feel the sun’s rising like shards of glass pricking his skin.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief as blessed darkness engulfed him. Sinking down onto the bed, he closed his eyes, waiting for oblivion.

He would rise with the setting of the sun, and Karinna would rise with him, a newborn vampire, blood of his blood.

Rourke woke with the setting of the sun. As always, his first conscious thought was for Karinna. Leaving the shed, he hurried into the house. For the first time in three hundred years, he was afraid of what the night might bring.

He came to an abrupt halt in front of the fireplace. He stood there a moment, filled with uncertainty, before he pulled the blanket off the frame.

The painting remained unchanged; Karinna sat in the boat, unmoving.

He swore softly. Had he failed? Was she now one of the Undead, trapped inside a painting with a vampire’s needs, a vampire’s hunger? Would it have been kinder to do as she had asked and destroy the painting?

He paced the floor in front of the hearth, torn by his need for the woman and his desire to end her pain.

Dammit! What had he done?

He was about to enter the painting when there was a sharp crack. The glass shattered as the frame split in half. The canvas slid down the wall, over the mantel, and onto the floor, and Karinna stood before him, her face as pale as death, her eyes wide and unfocused. And empty.

“Karinna?” Fear like nothing he had ever known engulfed him. Merciful heavens, what had he done?

She stared at him unblinking, her eyes vacant, devoid of recognition.

“Karinna!” Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her. “Dammit, woman, answer me!”

She blinked once, twice, her expression turning to one of confusion. Color returned to her cheeks. She glanced past him, taking in her surroundings as if she had never seen them before. And then her gaze settled on his face. “Rourke?”

He nodded once, and waited. Would she sense the change immediately? Would she truly hate him for what he had done? Just then, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except that the curse had been broken and she was back in the real world, where she belonged.

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the room a second time. When she looked at him again, he knew that she remembered everything that had happened, and that she despised him for what he had done. Her hatred struck him like a physical blow.

“Why?” she demanded. She fisted her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing. “Why did you do it? I asked you to destroy the painting.”

She stabbed a finger at his chest, driving Rourke backward.

Had she been mortal, her touch would have had no effect on him. But she was a vampire now, with a vampire’s strength.

“I begged you to destroy me,” she went on. “I told you I didn’t want to be a vampire!”

Rourke shook his head, amused by her anger, delighted that she was free of the wizard’s curse. She could hate him all she liked, but she was in the world again. With any luck, she might forgive him for what he had done in a hundred years or so. And if it took longer, well, he had all the time in the world to wait.

She glared at him, and then her expression turned thoughtful. “The wizard…is he dead?”

“Yes. He will never hurt anyone again.”

“And his daughter? Where is she?”

“Ana Luisa is with Vega.”

With a curt nod, Karinna brushed past him. She walked through the house as if seeing it for the first time, marveling at how big everything seemed. She ran her hands over her belongings, as if to reassure herself that they were real, that she was really there. She had spent only a few days trapped inside a world of canvas and paint, yet it had seemed ever so much longer. How had Rourke and Ana Luisa endured such torture without going insane?

She came to an abrupt halt in front of the mirror in her bedroom. She could see the wall behind her, the bed, the windows, but she cast no reflection in the glass. Feeling suddenly queasy, she ran her hands over her face and arms. She was flesh and bone, yet she didn’t show up in the mirror. It made her feel as if she didn’t exist.

Choking back the hot bitter bile that rose in her throat, she turned away from the mirror. She was a vampire. She ran her tongue over her teeth, but she didn’t feel any fangs. Shouldn’t she have fangs? Maybe they came later, she thought, and wondered how she would explain them to her dentist. Did vampires go to the dentist?

Shaking off her silly thoughts, she went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror over the sink. Her image wasn’t there, either. How did female vampires put on their make-up and arrange their hair without being able to see their reflection?

She snorted softly. A minor inconvenience compared to everything else! How was she going to support herself when she couldn’t go to work anymore? How was she going to explain this to her parents, to Tricia, and to the rest of her friends and acquaintances? This was all Jason Rourke’s fault! She never should have bought that accursed painting, never should have brought it home with her, never should have helped him rescue Ana Luisa….

She blew out a sigh of exasperation. There was no point in dwelling on the past. It couldn’t be changed. So, she would find a new job, one where she could work nights, and when the time was right, she would tell her parents that she had come down with some sort of allergy to the sun, and…

She blinked rapidly as tears burned her eyes. She didn’t want to make lemonade out of the lemon her life had become. She just wanted to be plain old boring Karinna Adams again. She wanted to be able to lie in the sun on a warm day and get a tan, and drink malts, and eat chocolate, and…

At the thought of food, her stomach knotted painfully. Of course, it was natural to be hungry; she hadn’t eaten for days.

Leaving the bathroom, she went downstairs. She swept past Rourke without a glance as she made her way into the kitchen.

He hadn’t followed her into the bathroom, but he followed her now, pausing inside the doorway while she opened the refrigerator and withdrew a bright red apple.

“Karinna…”

Ignoring the warning in his voice, she took a bite. The minute she swallowed it, she knew it had been a mistake. Pain speared through her stomach. Hurrying to the sink, she threw it up, then stood there gasping.

When Rourke took a step toward her, she put her hand out to stop him. “Just leave me alone.”

“I only want to help you.”

A harsh sound of derision rose in her throat. “You’ve done enough, thank you very much. Just go away.”

“As you wish.” Knowing there would be no talking to her until she had calmed down and accepted things the way they were, he left the house.

Kari stood in the kitchen, one hand pressed to her stomach as she listened to the front door open and close.

She was a vampire. No more dark chocolate ice cream or candy. No more salty French fries. No more cheeseburgers smothered in onions. No more spaghetti and crusty garlic bread. No more suntans. No more iced tea on a hot day. No more hot days…. She blinked back her tears. No children. No grandchildren. No anything.

The room seemed to close in around her. Without a thought for where she was going, she left the house, turned left at the end of the driveway, and started walking down the street.

And walked into a whole new world. For a moment, she thought she was in the wrong place. Everything looked different and, yet, oddly the same. Though the sun was down and the world was dark, she could see everything around her. The colors of the houses and flowers and trees were as bright and clear as if the sun were high in the sky.

She heard bits of conversations as she hurried down the sidewalk, even though there was no one else in sight. It took her a moment to realize that what she was hearing were conversations taking place inside the houses that lined the road.

She took a breath and her nostrils filled with dozens of scents.

She slowed when she realized she was nearing Ramon Vega’s house. How had she gotten here so fast? He lived on the other side of town.

With a shake of her head, she went up the walkway and knocked on the door.

It opened a moment later. “Karinna!” Ana Luisa exclaimed. “You are free. When…how did this happen?”

“Just tonight.” Karinna couldn’t help thinking that, clad in a pair of slinky red tights and a white T-shirt, Ana looked trim and happy.

Ana Luisa leaned to one side and glanced past Karinna. “Where is Jason?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Ana Luisa frowned, then stood aside. “Come in.”

Karinna followed her into the living room.

“Hey!” Vega said. “Nice dress.”

“What?” Karinna looked down at herself, only then realizing she was still wearing the green gown she had been wearing inside the painting.

Ana Luisa gestured at the sofa. “Please, sit down,” she invited, taking a place beside Ramon. “Tell us what happened.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Kari sat down, her fingers pleating the material in her skirt. “Rourke came into the painting somehow. Last night, he made me a vampire. Tonight, the painting broke and”—she shrugged—“here I am.”

Vega grunted softly. “So, the spell was broken when
you
died. Interesting.”

Kari looked at Vega. “But I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“I take it he didn’t give you a choice,” Vega said.

“He knew I didn’t want to be a vampire. I told him as much,” Kari said bitterly. “For all the good it did me.”

“Would you rather still be trapped inside that horrid painting?” Ana Luisa asked with a shudder.

“Of course not. I asked him to destroy it and me with it.”

Ana Luisa’s eyes widened. “You wanted him to kill you?”

“Yes. It would have been better than this.”

“How can you say that?” Ana sprang to her feet, her hands planted on her hips as she stared down at Karinna. “You are here. You are alive. You are in love with Jason, and he loves you. Why would you rather be dead than spend the rest of your life with the man you love?”

Karinna blinked at the girl.

Vega tugged on Ana Luisa’s shirt. “Calm down, chica.”

With a huff, she resumed her place beside him.

“It’s not all that bad, being a vampire,” Vega remarked. “Sure, there are things you can’t do, but hey, look at the bright side. You won’t grow old. You’ll never get sick. Your senses are all enhanced.” He smiled at Ana as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “And the lovin’ only gets better.”

Kari stared at the two of them thinking how perfectly matched they seemed to be and how well they complemented each other.

“I know you both seem to like being vampires, but…” Kari shook her head. “What about the blood?”

Vega shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”

Kari glanced at Ana Luisa. “Isn’t it disgusting?”

“No, it’s quite sweet.”

Kari stared at the girl. Blood, sweet? She frowned, surprised that the thought didn’t make her sick, and a little disconcerted to find it even sounded…tempting.

“Have you fed since you were turned?” Vega asked.

“No,” Kari replied, once again surprised that an idea she had once found completely repulsive now seemed almost…normal.

“You must be hungry,” Ana Luisa said matter-of-factly.

Kari nodded, though she was reluctant to admit it.

“Vampires don’t normally feed on vampires,” Vega said, “but it won’t hurt, this once.”

“What do you mean?” Kari asked, although she was afraid she knew exactly what he meant.

“I mean if you’re hungry, I’m offering.”

She stared at him for several seconds, bewildered because the idea, which should have been repugnant, was suddenly vastly appealing. She glanced at Ana Luisa. “You don’t mind?”

“As long as you do not make a habit of it,” Ana Luisa replied with a grin.

“But…” Kari ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s easy,” Vega said, patting the sofa cushion beside him. “Come here.”

Sensing Karinna’s reluctance to feed with someone else watching, Ana Luisa said, “Please excuse me,” and left the room.

Kari hesitated a moment, then went to sit beside Vega. The talk of blood and hunger had awakened something deep inside her. She could feel it stirring, gaining strength. The tips of her fangs brushed against her tongue.

She stared at Vega’s neck, and licked her lips. “Won’t it hurt you?”

Vega laughed softly. “Not at all. Quite the contrary, actually.”

Kari looked at him, uncertain as to what she should do. In the movies, vampires usually bit their prey on the neck. She licked her lips as the urge to feed grew stronger. Should she just grab him and go for it?

“Okay,” Vega said. “Here’s a quick course in How to Be a Vampire 101. You can take blood from the neck, the wrist, or anywhere else you like. Of course, some places, like the inside of the thigh, are more intimate than others.”

Vega’s thigh was out of the question. Kari glanced at his throat. She could easily imagine Ana Luisa drinking from there. Feeding from his wrist seemed more impersonal.

As though reading her mind, Vega held out his left arm, palm up. “Go on,” he coaxed.

She was reaching for him when someone knocked at the door.

Vega looked up with a frown, then swore softly. “It’s Rourke.”

“What’s he doing here?” Kari asked. “You don’t think Ana Luisa called him, do you?”

Vega shook his head as he rose from the sofa. “I doubt it.”

“Did you?”

“When would I have had time to do that?” he muttered over his shoulder, and then opened the door.

“Where is she?” Rourke demanded.

“In the other room,” Vega said. “Come on in.”

With a curt nod, Rourke swept past Vega and stalked into the living room. He took one look at Karinna, at the hunger in her eyes, and knew why she had come here. Anger and jealousy rushed to the fore at the thought of her taking nourishment from another vampire.

“You will not feed off of him,” he told Karinna brusquely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Karinna said, knowing her extended fangs made a liar out of her.

“Don’t you? You don’t know how to feed on your own. You are too angry to ask for my help, so you came here, either to ask for his help or to ease your thirst.” His eyes narrowed ominously. “If you need to feed, I will find prey for you, or you can drink from me. But not from him. Is that understood?”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Kari retorted, hating how childish her words sounded. “I don’t have to do what you say.”

“Okay,” Vega said, stepping between them. “Just hold on a minute.”