A Whisper Of Eternity (7 page)

Opening a door, Dominic beckoned for her to follow. “My bedroom,” he said.

There were no windows in this room, either, of course. Windows would be impossible so far underground. There were paintings of all shapes and sizes on all four walls—paintings of sunrises, nothing but sunrises. An armoire of dark cherrywood stood in one corner. There was a small desk and matching chair.

And in the center of the room, a sleek black casket lined with rich black satin.

She stared at the coffin, stared at Dominic, and then at the casket once again.

She blinked as the room went out of focus, spinning around her faster and faster, sucking her down, down, into blessed oblivion.

He caught her before she hit the floor.

She woke cradled in Dominic’s arms and knew, on some subconscious level of awareness, that he had held her this same way many times in the past. A fire burned in the hearth, providing the only light in the room.

He smiled faintly when he saw she was awake.

“I don’t remember ever fainting before I met you.” She had an almost irresistible urge to laugh out loud as she muttered, “At least not in this life.”

“Are you all right now?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

But he made no move to let her go, and she made no attempt to rise. Somehow, the effort seemed too great. Or maybe it was just that she was numb inside, overwhelmed by what he had told her and what she had seen. Maybe she was dreaming again.

He was a vampire.

He was over two thousand years old.

She had lived before, many times.

She shook her head to clear it, and shook off her lethargy at the same time. It didn’t matter who she had been before, only who she was now.

As for Dominic . . . she looked up and met his gaze. “Where do we go from here?”

“Wherever you wish.”

“And if I wish to go upstairs?”

Sitting back, he took his arms from around her. “You are free to go, as always.”

Not sure that she trusted him, she scooted off his lap. For a moment, she stood looking down at him, waiting. When he made no move to stop her, she walked toward the door and left him sitting there on the sofa, staring after her.

Upstairs, she thought of all he had told her. How did it feel to live such a long life, even if it was only half a life? Did one get tired of living? Oh, but how could that be? He had seen the history of the world unfold, seen mankind evolve, been there throughout the ages. How wonderful it must have been, to have seen so much, learned so much. And yet, how lonely, to have no one his own age to reminisce with, no one to grow old with, no one who shared his past, his memories. How sad, to fall in love with someone and lose them over and over again. As he had lost her . . . as she had lost him.

No! Whatever her past lives had been, they were gone now. She couldn’t spend this life thinking of the ones before. She would go crazy if she did. She was Tracy Warner now. Not Kiya. Not Jocelyn. Not Nysa, or Annie Williams or any of the hundreds of other women she might have been.

She moved through the house, drawing the curtains over every window, locking every door, even though she knew nothing would keep him out.

Vampire.

Undead.

She changed into her nightgown and climbed under the covers. She didn’t turn out the light.

 

 

He didn’t have to be with her to know what she was doing. If he opened his mind, let his senses expand, he could read her thoughts. Tempting as it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking. Not now.

He stared into the fire, his preternatural sight showing him colors that mortals never saw. He saw each flame in vivid detail, each wisp of smoke, each ash that fell. The fire burned brighter, its energy fed by his rising frustration. Stubborn woman! Would she never give in? Was he fated to follow her forever, always watching her, always loving her and yet always losing her?

He was the most powerful creature on the face of the earth. He could destroy life with a thought, bend mortals to his will. He could change his appearance, control the elements, bring this house down with a wave of his hand. Had he wished, he could supplant her will with his own. But he did not want to force her to come to him. He wanted her love, freely given.

And he would have it, sooner or later.

 

 

She woke in the morning feeling foolish. No matter what she had said last night, in spite of everything Dominic had told her, in spite of her own vivid dreams, she didn’t truly believe in reincarnation. One birth, one life, and one death—that was what she believed in. And she didn’t believe in vampires, either. She did believe in the power of suggestion and in hypnotism and both of those possibilities made more sense than believing she had lived a hundred other lives or that Dominic was a two-thousand-year-old vampire. She knew there were people who believed they were vampires. They engaged in role-playing games online, wore nothing but black clothing, and only came out at night. Some claimed to be immortal. Some claimed to drink blood. But, no matter what they pretended to be, they were just people acting out some bizarre fantasy. And no matter what Dominic said, what he tried to make her believe, she wasn’t Annie Williams. She wasn’t Kiya or Nysa or Jocelyn. She had never been a queen or an exotic dancer. She was just plain old Tracy Ann Warner, artist, and happy to be so.

As for Dominic . . . well, he was just too weird. She’d be better off if she never saw him again.

After breakfast, she put on her bathing suit. Glancing in the mirror, she resolved to lose ten pounds before summer’s end, and then blew out a sigh. She made the same resolution every year.

Grabbing her beach bag, she tossed in an orange, a bottle of water, her suntan lotion, and a paperback novel. She found a blanket and a towel and went down to the beach to work on her tan.

Hoping to see Bryan, she gravitated toward Tower Ten. She felt a moment of disappointment when she saw another lifeguard on duty. With a shrug, she spread her blanket on the sand, slathered herself with suntan lotion, put on her dark glasses, and lost herself in her book.

After an hour, she put the book aside, took off her sunglasses, and waded into the surf. She yelped as the water swirled around her ankles. Gee, but it was cold.

Determined, she waded deeper into the water, then dove under a wave and began swimming.

She let out a shriek when something came up behind her and brushed against her arm.

“Hey, it’s only me.”

“Bryan!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did.” Treading water, she turned to face him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I always come out for a swim before I go to work. When I saw you . . .” He shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind a little company.”

“No, but I was just about to go back in.”

“I’ll race you.”

She made a face at him. “Like I have a chance of beating a lifeguard.”

“Well, because I’m a lifeguard, I’ll give you a head start.”

“Well, because I’m out of practice, I’ll take it.”

She struck out for shore, her adrenaline pumping. She had been on the swim teams in high school and college, but that had been a few years ago. She hadn’t had a chance to get in much practice since college. Now, it felt good to be in competition again, even if she didn’t have a hope of winning.

She risked a glance over her shoulder to see Bryan coming up behind her. He swam with seemingly effortless ease. And he was gaining on her.

And then he passed her.

He was standing on the shore, grinning, when she emerged from the water. “You could have been a gentleman and let me win,” she said, shaking the water out of her hair.

“I thought about it,” he said, “but then I decided you’d rather lose honestly.”

“You were right.” She walked up the beach toward her blanket, and he followed her. “How soon do you have to go to work?”

He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

She plopped down on the blanket. “Want to keep me company until then?”

“Sure.” He dropped down beside her. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna go to the movies?”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Pick you up at seven?”

“All right. How long have you been a lifeguard?”

“Since I got out of high school. I’d do it all year, if they’d let me.”

“What do you do in the winter?”

“I work over at the Y. I teach kids how to swim, hold classes in self-defense, and if there’s enough interest, I teach tai chi.”

“You look like you lift weights.”

A faint flush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, well, I do that, too.”

“So, why don’t you live in D.C. with your folks?”

“They expect too much of me, you know? I mean, I think it’s great that my brothers all followed in the old man’s footsteps, but I’m just not cut out to be a cop. Or an accountant, for that matter. I’m afraid I’m a big disappointment to both of them.”

She laughed. “I’m a big disappointment to my folks, too. They were hoping I’d marry a doctor or a lawyer and give them a dozen grandchildren.”

“How about a lifeguard?”

She laughed again, only to break off abruptly when he didn’t join in. “You’re not serious?”

He nodded. “ ’Fraid so.”

“But we just met, and . . .”

“And I’m too young for you. Does age really matter? Would you be happier if I was older?”

“No,” she said, thinking of Dominic, “I wouldn’t be happier. But, Bryan, we hardly know each other.”

“I’m hoping to remedy that.” Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve gotta go. See you tonight.” Rising, he took a few steps, then turned back. “Hey, where do you live?”

“Up there,” she said, pointing. “The big house that looks like Dracula lives there.” She said the words without thinking, and then shuddered. Dracula
did
live there.

“Gotcha. See you at seven.”

Tracy stared after him, bemused. She hadn’t had a date in months. Now she had a too-young lifeguard on one hand and a too-old vampire on the other. Given a choice . . . but she didn’t have to decide, she thought, applying a fresh coat of suntan lotion. She could date anyone she wanted.

But right now, she just wanted to soak up some sun.

 

 

Bryan arrived at her door promptly at seven. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and boots and it occurred to her that, with his blond hair and blue eyes, he looked an awful lot like Brad Pitt.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yep, just let me get my jacket.”

“Jacket?”

“It gets mighty cold in the theater sometimes. Come on in. I won’t be a minute.”

She left Bryan in the living room while she ran upstairs to her bedroom to get her jacket.

And almost ran into Dominic. She looked up at him, one hand pressed to her heart. “Dominic! What are you doing here?”

“What is
he
doing here?”

“Who? Oh, Bryan. We’re going to the movies.”

“You’re dating that boy?” he asked incredulously.

She lifted her chin defiantly, though she was trembling inwardly, frightened by the intensity in his eyes. “Yes.”

He took a step forward. “You are mine. I will not share you with another.”

“I am not yours.” Anger replaced her earlier fear.

He took another step forward, and now he was towering over her, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his gray eyes smoldering with barely suppressed rage.

“Listen, Dominic, I know you think you have some sort of prior claim on me or something, but you’re wrong. I don’t believe all that reincarnation mumbo jumbo. And even if I did, none of that matters now. I’m not any of those other people, not anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Bryan is waiting.”

Gathering her courage, she grabbed her jacket off the bed and swept past him. She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left the room.

Bryan was waiting for her on the sofa downstairs. Grabbing him by the hand, she pulled him to his feet.

“Come on,” she said, “we don’t want to be late.”

 

 

Dominic stared after her. She had ever been a fiery wench, but never before had she defied him so openly. He was tempted to go downstairs and let her see the full force of his wrath; instead, he took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. He could always kill the boy later, if necessary.

Gathering his power around him like a cloak, he vanished from the house. He was sorely tempted to follow Tracy, to torment himself by watching her laugh and smile at another man, but to do so would only add fuel to the rage seething inside. Better to take himself far away from her before his jealousy got the best of him, before the beast that dwelled deep within him escaped his control. Should that happen, the boy would surely die.

A thought took him into the city where he prowled the streets, feeding the hunger that would not be ignored. But there was no relief from the jealousy that plagued him, no respite from the anger churning in his gut.

He slammed his hand against a wall, watched the stones turn to dust beneath the force of his blow. She was his! What right did she have to turn her back on him for some foolish mortal boy? He had followed her throughout time, waiting, always waiting, for her to realize that they were meant to be together.

This time, he vowed, this time he would not lose her.

 

 

“Well, that was one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen,” Tracy said as they left the theater. “Who would have thought that a brilliant director and two sexy actors could turn out such junk?”

“I guess you didn’t like it,” Bryan said dryly.

“Did you?”

“Well . . . I didn’t think it was all that bad. The car chases were great. Do you want to go have some coffee?”

“Sure.”

They walked across the street to a small café and ordered coffee and apple pie.

“Car chases,” Tracy said with a huff of annoyance. “That’s all movies are these days, car chases and special effects and remakes of stupid TV shows.”

Bryan laughed. “Come on, they’re not all bad.”

They discussed movies over pie and coffee, and then Bryan drove her home.

“I had a good time tonight,” Bryan said as he walked her to her door.

“Me, too.” She looked up at him, thinking what a handsome young man he was, wishing he were older, more settled, wondering if he would kiss her. She had truly enjoyed being out with him. Unlike Dominic, Bryan had no dark secrets. He was honest and open.