A WHISPER OF ETERNIT

Page 84



His hands clenched at his sides. It would be so easy to take her, to take her and bring her across. He could cloud her mind, bend her will to his, make her yield to him that which he had so long desired, and yet that was something he would never do. She must come to him willingly, without doubts, without hesitation. He had seen what happened to those who'd had the Dark Gift forced upon them. Some went mad and had to be destroyed. Some became little more than killing machines, slaking their unholy appetite in an endless river of blood, heedless of the misery and suffering they caused. Some refused to accept the gift and destroyed themselves by walking into the sunlight. It was not an easy life, to be a vampire. It took a great deal of courage and strength to live a life against nature. Only those who freely embraced the Dark Gift were able to endure it for more than a century or two.

He wondered ifTracy had any idea of how difficult it was for him to be with her, to kiss and caress her, but never make love to her as he so longed to do. Love and desire were closely intertwined with the hunger that was ever within him, making it both pleasure and pain to hold her in his arms. And always, in the back of his mind, was the memory of other lives, past lives, when she had loved him, when she had made love to him and let him make love to her in return.

He glanced up at the house, his gaze moving instinctively to the window of the room where she lay sleeping. If he touched her mind with his, would he find that she was dreaming of him?

He took a deep breath, blew it out in a long sigh. In this life more than any other, he at least had hope. In this life, she was neither slave nor queen nor wed to another. She was her own woman, free and independent, able to do whatever she wished.

In this life, she could be his.

Tracywoke feeling wonderful. She stretched languidly,then padded downstairs to put the coffee on. Standing at the window, staring out at the yard, she lifted a hand to her neck. She had let Dominic drink her blood. Last night, it had seemed so right. Now, in the cool light of day, she couldn't believe she had actually let him do such a thing.

What had she been thinking?

She shook her head. Obviously, shehadn't been thinking, or she never would have agreed to it. But she had been moved by the soulful look in Dominic's eyes, touched by the gentle pleading in his voice.

He had promised it wouldn't hurt, and it hadn't. He had also promised he would take only a taste and she knew, on some deep, primal level, that he had taken more than just a taste. And yet, to tell the truth, his vampire kiss had given her such pleasure, she had not wanted him to stop.

Tracy Ann Warner, vampire blood bank.

She turned away from the window and poured herself a cup of coffee. No matter how pleasurable it had been, it couldn't happen again.

After a quick breakfast of toast and cereal, she went upstairs for a shower,then spent the rest of the morning painting another seascape for Mr. Petersen, deciding that if he didn't like her work, she could always sell it to someone else. There was a small art gallery in Sea Cliff that accepted paintings on consignment.