She looked at Duncan, hoping for his understanding. “I couldn’t let Edward die, not when he’d saved us. I asked Grigori to save him. He didn’t want to. He told me Edward wouldn’t like it, that he would rather be dead. But I couldn’t let him die. There had been so much death already . . .” She smiled faintly. “Grigori told me I’d have to take the blame. He made me sit down and covered me with a blanket, then told me to close my eyes. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
Duncan leaned forward. He had killed vampires, and he had a pretty good idea of how the Dark Gift worked, but he had never seen anyone brought across.
“Grigori knelt on the floor and drew Edward into his lap. He turned Edward’s head to the side. I saw Grigori take a deep breath, and then he bent over Edward. I couldn’t see much. I don’t know how much time went by, probably not more than a few minutes. And then Grigori bit his own wrist and placed the bleeding wound to Edward’s lips and told Edward to drink.”
“And he did,” Duncan said.
“Yes, he did. It was . . .” She shook her head, at a loss for words to describe adequately what she had seen.
Grigori had looked at her then, his eyes dark, fathomless, penetrating.
This is what I am, what I have always been.
“It was like a miracle,” she went on. “The horrible wound in Edward’s throat healed in just a few minutes. His color returned. He didn’t know what had happened at first.”
Edward had glanced from Chiavari to Marisa. “What the hell happened?”
“How do you feel, Edward?” she had asked.
“I feel fine,” he retorted. “I want to know what the . . .” His words trailed off when he caught sight of Alexi’s body. “Is he dead?”
She shrugged. “I hope so.”
“He’s dead,” Grigori remarked. He regarded Ramsey through narrowed eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Why do you two keep asking me that? I feel . . .” Edward frowned. “I feel funny.” He looked at Alexi again. “I stabbed him, and then he . . .”
Edward lifted one hand to his throat. “He bit me. Ripped my jugular. I remember . . . what happened?”
“You were dying,” she told him.
Edward stared at Grigori, a look of horror spreading over his face. “You didn’t? For the love of all that’s holy, tell me you didn’t!”
“It was my idea,” she said. “He didn’t want to.”
“You told him to turn me into one of them? How could you?”
She remembered standing up, the bedspread clutched to her chest. “Would you rather be dead, Edward?”
He had scrambled to his feet and backed away from them both. “Of course I would . . .” he began, and then, shoulders slumping, he buried his face in his hands.
“Well, he seems to have adjusted readily enough now,” Duncan remarked drily.
“Perhaps,” she said. “He went through—so much pain. He tried to walk out into the sun, to destroy himself. He even asked Grigori to destroy him. He was very troubled. And then Kelly came into his life. . . .”
“Ah, true love,” Duncan said with a twist of bitterness. “What happened to Kristov’s body?”
“Grigori dragged it out onto the balcony. He said the sun would take care of it.”
“Hell of a story.”
She nodded.
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you? Chiavari?”
“Of course. I love him.” She clutched his arm. “You’re not going to try and kill him, are you? Or Edward? Or Kelly?”
“Sounds like you’re trying to put me out of business. Killing vampires is what I do. It’s all I know.”
She let go of his arm, her gaze probing his. “I thought Edward was your friend.”
“He was. He is.” Duncan shook his head. “Damn, I don’t know what to do anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent close to fifteen years hunting vampires. I’ve always believed they were evil, that they had to be destroyed.” He stood and began to pace the floor. “Look at Kristov! The man was a monster. And Khira? She’s even worse. She’s killing people every night. Who knows how many of the people on the city’s missing-persons reports are dead and gone, killed by her hand?”
“Grigori wouldn’t . . .”
“He’s killed, too. And, damn it, so has Edward.”
“So have you.”
“Vampires are already dead. You can’t kill something that’s dead.” Agitated, he slammed his fist into the wall. Life had been so simple before. He had been one of the good guys. The undead were the bad guys. Black and white. No shades of gray. And now . . . he swore under his breath. Right or wrong, he couldn’t kill Edward.
“Tom?” She looked up at him, a silent appeal in her eyes. “I love Grigori.”
“All right, all right. I won’t hunt him. Or Edward.”
“Or Kelly?”
He swore again. “Or Kelly.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Tom muttered ruefully. “Who knows? Maybe I can go into the movie business as a consultant on horror movies. Or write the next bestseller.
Vampires Are Us.”
Chapter 36
Shifting shadows, a subtle change in the pulse and rhythm of the city, of the earth itself, as night spread her voluminous cloak across the face of the land.
Edward Ramsey came awake at the setting of the sun, all his senses alert. He sent his power outward, testing the air, but he detected no hint of danger.
He brushed a kiss across Kelly’s cheek. Her skin was cool. She lay unmoving beside him, still caught in the deathlike sleep of their kind.
Their kind.
I am a vampire.
Even now, it was still hard to believe.
He smoothed a lock of hair from her brow. Even though he knew she would awaken soon, even though he knew her utter stillness was normal for a vampire, he found it disconcerting to see her like that, vulnerable and helpless—and more so to know that, when caught in the Dark Sleep, he was just as vulnerable, just as helpless.
She stirred a short time later, her eyelids fluttering, opening. She smiled when she saw him gazing down at her. “Hello, husband.”
“Hello, wife.”
She rolled over, draping her body across his, her fingertips trailing up and down his thigh. “We didn’t get much of a honeymoon night, did we?”
Ramsey shook his head. “Maybe we can make up for it tonight.”
She smiled a slow, sexy smile. “Are you reading my mind?”
“I hope so.”
Ramsey folded her into his arms, his mouth finding hers, his hands moving over the smooth skin of her back. Their lovemaking was sometimes tender and sweet and sometimes, as now, filled with a dark fire edged with a fierce hunger. His power rose within him, emphasizing every sensation. He breathed in the scent of her skin, closed his eyes as he tasted her lips. It crossed his mind that, if not for Marisa and Chiavari, he would never have met Kelly. He would have been dead these past months, killed by Kristov’s hand, never knowing the joy he had found in Kelly’s arms.
She clung to him, her body moving against his like a living flame, her hands and lips igniting his desire. She whispered erotic suggestions in his ear, some that were wickedly funny, some inventive but quite impossible, even for a vampire.
He took pleasure in her release, in the way her body shuddered beneath his, in the touch of her fangs at his throat. His own release came soon after, an explosion that rocked him to the core of his being, heightened by the rich, coppery taste of her blood on his tongue....
Awash in contentment, he held her close in his arms, the scent of her blood arousing another hunger.
Kelly drew back so she could see his face. “Do you think it’s safe to go out?”
“I hope so.” He offered her a wry grin. “We could hunt in the hotel, I guess.”
“Yeah, right.”
“We need to go out, anyway,” Ramsey said. “We have to find Marisa and Duncan.”
“Do you really think Khira can be destroyed? That we can destroy her?”
“I don’t know, but we have to try. She has to be stopped. She is as bad as Kristov ever was. Hell, she’s worse.”
“You’re not a hunter anymore.”
“But Duncan is. If I had any doubts about killing her before, they’re gone now.” He swore under his breath. “She has to be stopped before she kills us all.”
Grigori rested deep in the heart of the earth, letting its warmth surround him, letting its energy flow into him, rejuvenating him. He summoned his power, flung it out into the vast reaches of the night. He felt Ramsey’s determination to destroy Khira, Kelly’s trepidation. He closed his eyes as his senses brushed the essence that was Marisa. Marisa, so warm and vital and alive, her love for him strong and unwavering. And over all, the evil canker of Khira’s anger, spreading across the city like a dark stain, polluting everything it touched.
He stirred as the sun went down, drawn to the surface by the heartbeat of the city, a low quiet thrumming that sang like sweet music in his ears, urging him to rise, to feed.
It was a call he could not refuse. Not now, when the need for blood was pounding through him, merciless, relentless.
He burst forth from the earth filled with renewed strength and a powerful thirst. A thought took him down to his favorite hunting grounds at the beach. He prowled the darkened streets until he found a young couple necking in a late-model convertible. His mind closed on theirs, held them immobile while he quickly took what he wanted. What he needed. What he craved.
When he had drunk his fill, he wiped his memory from their minds, released them from his hold, and vanished into the ever-changing shadows of the night.
Marisa smoothed her skirt, wishing she had a change of clothes. A hundred dollars for a new dress, and it was ruined, stained with dirt and with Duncan’s blood. “How’s your hand?”
“Okay, I guess. Hurts a little.”
“You probably need some stitches.”
He shrugged. “Too late now.”
She jumped, startled, when someone knocked on the door.
“Relax,” Duncan said. “It’s probably just the pizza.”
She nodded. They had considered going out for something to eat but, in the end, had decided to play it safe and stay in. While she showered and washed her hair, Tom had called out and ordered a couple of pizzas.
Duncan went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Ramsey.”
Startled, Duncan glanced over his shoulder at Marisa.
“Maybe we shouldn’t let him in.” She didn’t think they were in any danger from Edward, but after what she had seen at the park, she wasn’t feeling any too safe.
“I trust Ramsey,” Duncan said. “If he wanted to kill me, he could have done it already.”
Marisa nodded. “All right.”
Tom unlocked the door, his confidence waning some when he saw the two vampires standing there.
“So, are you going to invite us in?” Ramsey asked, one brow raised in amusement.
“Sure, come on in, “Duncan said, and stood back to admit Edward and Kelly.
Marisa glanced from one vampire to the other. Edward was clad in a bulky light-blue sweater and a pair of black jeans; Kelly wore a bloodred sweater and a pair of white pants. From the vibrant glow in their cheeks, it was obvious both had fed recently.
For a moment, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut.
It was Duncan who broke the silence. “What brings you here, Ed?”
“What the hell do you think?” Ramsey retorted. “We need to talk.”
With a nod, Duncan shut the door and slid the bolt home, then sat down on the edge of his bed. “You two might as well sit down and be comfortable.”
Edward and Kelly sat on the other bed, holding hands.
Marisa sat in the room’s only chair, one leg curled beneath her. “Have you seen Grigori?”
Ramsey shook his head. “I tried to locate him, but I couldn’t. He’s put up a mind block.”
Marisa leaned forward. “You don’t think he’s . . .” She couldn’t say the word.
“No.”
“Why would he shut his mind against me?”
Kelly reached out and squeezed Marisa’s hand. “I’m sure it’s to protect you from Khira.”
“Yes, Khira,” Duncan said. His gaze settled on Ramsey. “Are you ready to tell me where she is?”
“She’s staying at the LaSalle mansion. She . . .” Ramsey paused, his gaze darting toward the door. “Someone’s here.” He lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Did you order a pizza?”
Duncan nodded. A moment later, there was a knock on the door. Duncan opened the door a crack and looked out, then opened the door. He paid for the pizzas, handed the boxes to Marisa, then closed and locked the door.
Marisa set the boxes on top of the dresser. The first was ham and pineapple, the second sausage and pepperoni. Swimming in tomato sauce. It reminded her of blood.
“I don’t think I’m as hungry as I thought,” she murmured, turning away.
“I used to love pizza,” Kelly remarked.
Duncan took a slice of sausage and pepperoni. Leaning one hip against the edge of the dresser, he wolfed it down. Looking at Ramsey, he smacked his lips appreciatively as he grabbed another slice and then sat down on the bed again.
“So,” he said between mouthfuls, “what’s Khira doing at the LaSalle place?”
“She saw it. She decided she wanted it.” Ramsey shrugged. “She took it.”
Duncan wiped his hand across his mouth. “What about LaSalle?”
Ramsey snorted disdainfully. “He left without a whimper.”
“So.” Duncan grabbed his third slice of pizza and munched it thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll go pay her a little visit tomorrow morning.” He looked at Ramsey. “I sure wish you were going with me.”
Ramsey nodded. “I wish I could.”
“You would be wiser,” remarked a deep voice, “to visit her in the afternoon.”
“Grigori!” Jumping to her feet, Marisa hurled herself into his arms when he suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. “Where have you been? How are you?” She ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, her gaze searching his face. “Are you all right?”
“Cara,
you worry too much.” Lowering his head, he kissed her tenderly.
She leaned into him, all else forgotten. He was here; he was well. For now, that was all that mattered. Khira, the danger they were in, everything else faded into the distance, swept away by the heat spiraling through her, by the sweet ecstasy of his lips on hers, his arms surrounding her.
Ramsey’s voice penetrated the haze of passion. “You two coming up for air any time soon?”
“Maybe they’d better get their own room,” Duncan remarked dryly.
Marisa felt her cheeks grow warm at the banter of the two men. Grigori smiled down at her. Lifting her into his arms, he sat down in the chair she had vacated, and settled her on his lap.
“You left her?” Ramsey asked, one brow raised in disbelief. “You left Khira? What about Marisa?”
“I’m not afraid,” Marisa said. She looked up at Grigori. “Not as long as you’re here.”
Chiavari’s arm tightened around her. “Marisa is in no more danger than the rest of us now. Khira intends to kill us. All of us.”
Duncan swore softly. “Like hell.”
“Exactly,” Ramsey said. He looked at Duncan and smiled broadly. “Looks like we’ll be working together again, after all.”
The room fell silent a moment. Ramsey squeezed Kelly’s hand. He could feel her fear. She wasn’t the only one who was afraid, he thought. They all were.
“We need a plan,” Ramsey said. “Khira’s powerful, and she’s smart. She won’t go down without a fight.”
Duncan nodded. “It’ll have to be during the day.”
“Maybe,” Chiavari said. “And maybe not.”
“What do you mean?” Marisa asked, her gaze searching Grigori’s face. “You don’t intend to fight her at night, when she’s at her strongest?”
“Maybe you would rather not be involved,” Ramsey said, addressing Chiavari. “You and Khira share a lot of history.”
“She cannot be allowed to go on as she is,” Grigori said quietly. “She is a danger, not only to us, but to everyone in the city.”
“So, we’re agreed,” Ramsey said. “She must be destroyed.”
Grigori nodded, his arm tightening around Marisa. He would do whatever he had to do to keep her safe.
“So,” Ramsey said, “we need a plan.”
“I’ve got a plan,” Duncan said. “I’ll go in tomorrow afternoon, stake her, and take her head. What could be simpler?”
“Almost anything,” Grigori said dryly. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”
“She’s a vampire, isn’t she?” Duncan retorted. “I don’t care how powerful she is. A stake through the heart will stop her clock, just like anybody else’s.”
Darkness moved through Grigori’s eyes. “I am surprised you have survived this long, vampyre hunter.” There was no mistaking the disdain in the last two words. “How have you hunted us for so long and learned so little?”
Duncan stood up. “I’ve made ten kills,” he said. “Ten kills in almost fifteen years. She’ll make eleven.”
“Go, then,” Grigori said, his voice as hard and cold as ice. “Try and take her. We will bury what is left of you, if there is anything left to find.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Duncan asked, bristling.
“It means you are a fool if you think you will be able to walk into her lair, find her, and stake her. She has not survived a thousand years by being careless or foolish.”
“We know where she lives. It shouldn’t be that hard to break in.”
“You do not know if she rests there,” Grigori said, his voice filled with contempt. “You know nothing of her habits. Or if anyone guards her lair while she sleeps.”
Duncan glanced at Ramsey, his expression uncertain.
“He’s right,” Ramsey said. “You’re letting your eagerness overcome your good sense.” He held up his hand, silencing the protest he saw in Duncan’s eyes. “I know you better than anyone, Tom. You’re a good man, a capable hunter. And ten kills is an impressive record. But you’ve never gone up against a vampire as powerful as Khira, believe me. I’ve felt her power. I know what she can do.”
“He’s right,” Grigori added. “As for being vulnerable during the daylight hours, she told me that the daylight has little power over her anymore. If you go charging into her house expecting to find a . . .” He glanced at Marisa. “A sleeping corpse, you may find yourself facing an enraged vampire who is very much awake. And far stronger than any mortal.”
Duncan sat down, his face pale. “All right, you convinced me. Now what?”
Ramsey grinned ruefully. “I guess we still need a plan.”
Khira stormed through the city like a dark angel of death, hunting and killing with relentless fury. With each life she snuffed from existence, with each steaming draught of life’s blood, her strength increased—and with it, her rage.
Grigori had left her. Forsaken her. How dare he! Did he really think himself strong enough to resist her fury? The thought gave her pause. Perhaps he did, but he would soon realize his folly. He had underestimated her anger, her strength, her passion for vengeance. When she found him this time, she would drain him and destroy him without effort. Without regret. She had given him the Dark Gift of life, and she would take it from him.