A WHISPER OF ETERNIT

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Dominic materialized in his rooms below the house. She had been aware of his presence, had known he was in the kitchen, but how? If he had taken her blood, they would have shared a telepathic bond, but he had never taken her blood. Time after time, in every life, he had ignored his ever-growing need and respected her wishes in that regard.

He paced the floor, his long, restless strides carrying him swiftly from one end of the room to the other. So, how had she known he was there? Did she possess psychic powers in this life? Or was it because their souls had been forged together in so many lifetimes through the ages? Perhaps now, at last, they shared a bond that not even her death could break.

Tracy. Her scent still filled his nostrils—warm and sweetly feminine. His hands clenched at his sides as he caught the faint scent of the boy she had been out with earlier. It would be so easy to dispose of the competition.So easy and so tempting. He could break the interloper in half with one hand, crush the life from his frail mortal body with nothing more than a thought.

But he would not. Closing his eyes, Dominic took a deep, calming breath. He was a civilized vampire now. He no longer killed indiscriminately or merely for the sheer pleasure of draining the thoughts, the wishes, and the life's blood of a mere mortal. These days, he drank no more than he required. He left his victims alive, though he wiped his memory from their minds.

Oh, yes, he mused, he was a civilized vampire now. But now and then he missed the old days, when he had been a young vampire, new in the life, when he had gloried in his newfound strength and preternatural power, when every night had been a new adventure and every mortal a feast for his relentless thirst.

Ah, for those nights when he had hunted at Kitana's side. They had swept through the tiny villages and hamlets of the Old Country like an invisible plague, gluttingthemselves on the warm, rich crimson that fell on the tongue like the finest of wines, smooth and intoxicating.

They had hunted throughout the cities and towns ofEngland andFrance ,Italy andSpain , sweeping through docks and dark alleyways, charming their way into fancy balls and masquerades, always leaving death behind. Kitana. That she had looked at him twice had been a miracle to him. Her body was as supple and slender as a willow tree, her dusky skin smooth and unblemished, her hair a cloud of thick auburn silk, and her lips… ah, her lips were like wild, sweet honey. She had fascinated him from the moment they met, captivating him, enchanting him, until he was hopelessly caught in the web of her supernatural power, and happy to have it so. When she promised him a way to stay forever young, forever at her side, he had agreed without a second thought. The loss of the sun had seemed a small price to pay for eternity in her arms.

The transformation had been nothing like he expected. When he had seen her in her true form, her eyes red with hunger, her fangs like white ice, he had tried to run, but he was no match for her preternatural speed and she had caught him easily. She had held him in her arms, her eyes glowing like hellfire as she bent over his neck. He had struggled in her embrace, but she had held him effortlessly, his strength like that of a newborn babe compared to her supernatural power.

Surprisingly, there had been no pain as she sank her fangs into his throat, only warm, sensual pleasure. When she drew back, he had whimpered like a child taken from its mother's breast and begged her not to stop. Instead, she had opened a gash in her own wrist and pressed it to his lips.