Phantom Embrace (7 page)

She watched him with wide eyes. “I've been gone for three nights?”

“Yes.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion. “For three
very
long nights.”

She took a step toward him. “I'm so sorry, Yuri. I didn't know.” How she wished she could touch him then. Smooth the furrow from his brow. Burrow into his arms and remove that look of anguish from his handsome face. “I don't even know where I was. To me, it's as though only minutes have passed.”

His shoulders slumped. His head bowed. Closing his eyes, he took the last step that separated them.

Warmth raced down the front of her where their bodies merged.

“I thought I'd lost you,” he whispered.

Her eyes burned with tears. “I'm sorry.”

He shook his head. “It wasn't your fault. I'm just so damned glad you're here.”

She lowered her own head and wished she could rest it upon his chest, feel his heart beating beneath her ear.

“How I wish I could hold you in my arms,” he murmured.

The words mirrored her thoughts so closely he might as well have read her mind. “As do I.”

Sighing, he backed away and sank down on the foot of his bed. “Sit with me for a moment.”

Cat sat next to him, so closely that heat from his hip seeped into hers.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice gentle.

She nodded. “A little scared, perhaps. It's a bit frightening to know I vanished and to have no memory of where I went or know why I went there.”

He nodded.

She thought of the men and women upstairs. “Marcus almost looked happy to see me.”

“He knows how worried I've been.”

“He knows I disappeared?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he would know where I went?”

He shook his head. “Marcus is even more strict about avoiding contact with spirits than I am. He
did
help me look for you, though.”

“Really?”

“I didn't want to leave longer than it took to hunt vampires because I didn't want to miss you if you returned. So he searched network headquarters for me to see if you were there.”

“That was kind of him.”

“Yes.”

“Would you thank him for me, please? I don't think he would want me to do it myself.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “I don't know. I think he may be coming around.” Something new sparkled in his eyes. “In fact, he said something to me while you were gone that made me think.”

“About what?” she asked, uncertain what that new light in his eyes reflected.

“You were born with psychometric abilities.”

“Yes.”

“Have you acquired any others since you . . .”

“Died?”

His face tightened. “Yes.”

“No.”

“None at all?”

“Not that I'm aware of, aside from being able to walk through objects. Why?”

“Have you ever tried to visit someone in their dreams?”

She frowned. “No. I wasn't born with that gift.”

“But you exist in a different realm now. Physically, you're as intangible as dreams. And I've heard that ghosts who delight in frightening people can sometimes infiltrate their victims' dreams and twist them into nightmares. At least, they do in movies. Maybe
you
could find your way into that other realm and visit me in my dreams.”

“I already visit you here. Why would you—?”

“I could
hold
you in my dreams,” he interrupted, voice deepening.

Her breath caught.

“I could touch you in my dreams.”

Excitement sizzled through her.

And how she wanted him to touch her, wanted to discover if she could find the same passion with him that paranormal romance heroines found with their heroes.

She swallowed. “I don't know how to enter your dreams,” she whispered.

The hope in his eyes began to fade.

“But,” she hastened to add, “I think I may know someone who does.”

“Who?”

“A spirit like those you mentioned. One who enjoys frightening the living. One who may very well haunt both people
and
dreams.”

A troubled frown drew his brows down. “Cat, I don't want you to place yourself in danger. If anything were to happen to you—”

“It won't,” she assured him, but already dreaded the confrontation to come. “I can handle this particular spirit.” She drew phantom fingers along his cheek and hoped she would soon be able to feel the rough rasp of his beard stubble. “If all goes well, I will see you in your dreams this morning.”

His throat moved in a swallow as his eyes darkened with the same longing that had been her constant companion since she had first spoken to him.

Rising, she thought of the estate she wished to visit.

Yuri's bedroom disappeared, replaced by sunny English countryside.

Cat stared up at a sprawling three-story home and willed away the trepidation that threatened to crush her.

Thinking of Yuri helped, filling her with purpose and courage.

Striding forward, she scaled the wide steps that led up to a pair of imposing double doors and passed through into the home.

It had changed over the centuries, had been remodeled many times over.

Servants went about their daily chores and paid her no heed as she strode past them, searching one room after another until she found herself in what had formerly been the library.

It still boasted tall bookshelves, but had been transformed into a modern home office.

A man with short, auburn hair lightly peppered with gray sat at a large oak desk, typing away at a computer. The current homeowner, she assumed.

Another man—a spirit like herself—with tousled dark blond hair slumped in one of the two chairs that faced the desk, singing a bawdy tavern song under his breath as he watched the other man work. The spirit leaned forward and reached a finger toward a coffee mug that rested a foot or so away from the computer. A grin splitting his face, he jabbed his finger into the side of the mug.

The mug skidded a couple of inches across the wooden surface, sloshing coffee over its rim.

The man behind the desk jumped and gripped the arms of his chair. “Shit!” His wide eyes fastened on the mug, then swiftly searched the room. Had she been able to hear it, Cat was certain his heart would be pounding a rapid rhythm in his chest.

A long moment passed while the man eyed the mug warily.

When nothing more happened, he pulled a tissue from a box on the opposite side of his desk and reached toward the spilled coffee, every movement stiff with anxiety.

The spirit's grin widened. When he again stretched a finger toward the mug, Cat spoke.

“Hello, Blaise.”

The spirit jumped even more violently than the homeowner had when the mug had seemingly moved without assistance. Leaping up, he spun around and regarded her with wide eyes, his gleeful smile vanishing. “Catherine.” Her husband's face filled with unease and shame and she-couldn't-identify-what-else as she studied him.

Cat had been there the night Roland had slain him. Hers had been the first face her husband and murderer had seen as his spirit had left his body. And as the madness with which the vampiric virus had infected him had fallen away, a new sort of madness had taken its place as he faced the truth of the atrocities he had committed.

He had begged her forgiveness for all he had cost her. Had wept over killing their babe.

Cat had felt nothing but bitterness, and wondered if bitterness was what drove him to torment the living as he did now. Bitterness or boredom, she supposed, and thought he really couldn't disappoint her more.

“W-what are you doing here?” he asked.

“You owe me a great debt,” she told him.

His gaze fell. “Yes.”

“You have knowledge I require.”

He looked up, curiosity erasing some of his unease. “What knowledge?”

Chapter Five

Stretched out in his king-sized bed, Yuri stared up at the dark ceiling.

Cat was going to try to visit him in his dreams. And damned if insomnia hadn't chosen to rear its head.

He swore.

When was the last time he had had difficulty sleeping? During his transformation? Certainly not since he had become immortal. Immortals possessed tremendous control over their bodies. They could control their temperature, their pulse, their metabolic rate.

And they could damned well fall asleep whenever the desire struck them.

Hell. Maybe he was just too excited to sleep. Just the idea of finally being able to hold Cat . . .

Or maybe he was
afraid
to fall asleep. Afraid she might not be able to find him in that realm. Afraid of losing the hope Marcus had given him.

He sighed.

“Just suck it up and do it,” he grumbled.

Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing, relaxed his body, and let sleep claim him.

* * *

A crush of people surrounded Yuri, buffeting him alongside a crisp winter breeze. Noses and cheeks glowed red in the cold. Warm breath formed puffs of white fog in front of smiling faces. Excitement filled the air, as did sparkling lights, the noise of hundreds of thousands of voices all talking at once, and the scent of alcohol.

Times Square on New Year's Eve. What a thrilling place to be. Masses of individuals all eager to ring in the new year, emitting so much positive energy one could practically get high on it.
If
, that was, one didn't have to weed out the vampires that slithered through the crowd, preying upon humans who remained trapped in place by the throng.

Yuri eyed one such vampire who had buried his face in a human woman's neck. Had he bitten her yet?

Her head fell back, her eyes closing as her lips parted in apparent pleasure.

Yeah, he had bitten her.

When vampires and immortals transformed, glands formed above the retractable fangs they grew. Under the pressure of a bite, those glands released a chemical that behaved much like GHB, leaving the victim sluggish and willing to accede to anything the vampires wanted to do to them. Tomorrow morning, the woman would have no memory of this.

Palming a dagger, Yuri shouldered his way through the throng, nodding and smiling at those he passed even as he dodged their big blue top hats. He glanced at the clock.

Perfect timing. They were about to begin the ten-second countdown to eleven o'clock.

Yuri bumped into the vampire.

As expected, the vamp removed his fangs from the woman's neck and spun around to snarl at Yuri.

Yuri buried his blade in the vampire's heart and twisted it to ensure the wound wouldn't heal before the vamp bled out.

Gripping Yuri's shoulder to help him remain on his feet, the vampire gaped up at him.

Yuri withdrew his dagger and drove it into the vampire's abdominal aorta just as the countdown began.

The vampire tried to draw a weapon.

Yuri snatched it from his hand and pocketed it.

The vampire staggered, then sagged against Yuri, any sound he made going unheard amidst the shouts of the revelers.

The woman the vampire had bitten teetered a step or two to one side.

“Dana?” the woman next to her shouted over the noise, frowning up at her and gripping her arm to steady her. She looked past Dana to Yuri and the vampire, whose face was pressed to Yuri's chest.

Yuri grinned and shook his head. “Too much to drink!” he shouted over the noise.

She laughed. “This one, too, it looks like!”

Rolling his eyes in feigned amusement, Yuri started to make his way through the crowd. Not an easy task in this crush of humanity, particularly while supporting the vampire's weight until the virus that infected him went to work. It didn't take long for the vampire to deteriorate completely and leave Yuri holding only a jumble of clothes.

Fortunately, everyone in the crowd was so busy cheering and admiring the pyrotechnic display while they shouted into their phones, took selfies, and blew whatever the hell those annoying noisemakers were called, that they didn't notice. The few who did notice Yuri just thought he was, at first, taking a drunk friend home and, moments later, carrying a spare coat.

As Yuri neared the edge of the crowd, he felt a tug on his coat sleeve.

Glancing back and down, he halted. Pleasure and surprise filled him. “Cat.” Wadding up the vampire's coat, he tossed it at the nearest building so no one would trip on it, then turned to face her. “What are you doing in New York?”

She smiled up at him. “You invited me.”

He shook his head. “What—?”

“This is a dream. You asked me to visit you in your dreams.”

“Check it!” a guy beside Yuri yelled to his friend. “This chick is so wasted she thinks she's dreaming!”

Laughter erupted.

Someone bumped Cat from behind.

She stumbled into Yuri.

Yuri grasped her arms to steady her . . . and stilled. “I can feel you,” he murmured.

“What?” she called over the noise.

“I can feel you!” he shouted, joy and amazement rising within him.

Nodding, she grinned up at him. “Marcus was right!”

Yuri drew her into a crushing embrace, hugging her as close as he could get her and resting his cheek on her hair.

She didn't wear a coat and felt small and delicate against his taller, broader form, her head only reaching his shoulder.

Loosening his hold, he eased away just a bit.

Tears glistened in her eyes when she tilted her head back to look up at him.

Yuri cupped her face in his hands, smoothed his thumbs over her soft, soft skin. Lowering his head, he did what he'd fantasized about doing ever since he had first glimpsed her in David's home. He brushed his lips against hers.

Fire flashed through him at the contact. His heart began to pound in his chest.

Cat surprised him yet again, sliding her arms around his waist and increasing the pressure.

Yuri deepened the kiss, tasting those pink lips with his tongue before delving within. He tightened his arms around her, locking her against his hardening form. Damn, she felt good. And he had wanted this for so long.

Somewhere a male laughed. “Dude! It's not midnight yet!”

“Yeah,” another male added with a laugh. “Save it for the new year!”

Yuri broke the kiss and stared down at Cat. “I can't wait that long!”

Face flushed, she shook her head. “I can't either!”

Opening his coat, he looped an arm around her and tucked her up against his side. Curses and disgruntled shouts rose around them as he muscled his way through the crowd, but Yuri would let no one deter him from leaving.

When they finally reached the edge of the massive horde, Yuri took Cat's hand and began to jog past the men and women just arriving.

Cat's laughter reached his ears, lightening his spirit until a huge grin split his lips. He felt so happy. And young. And carefree.

It seemed to take forever to reach a street with no pedestrians.

Stopping, he released Cat's hand, bent, and lifted her into his arms. “Hold on tight,” he told her.

She smiled. “I will.”

* * *

Cat's breath caught as the tall buildings around them blurred and Yuri carried them through the streets of New York at preternatural speeds.

She couldn't believe she had done it. That she was here in his arms. That she could feel him against her. His shoulder beneath her cheek. His muscled chest against her breasts.

She laughed again at the pure joy of it and heard a responding rumble in his chest.

As the noise faded, she buried her face in his neck, drew in his scent, reveled in the feel of his warm skin.

Yuri.

Her
Yuri.

Yuri stopped in an alleyway, tall structures on either side of them. The building he turned her to face was old and worn and boasted a single, nondescript door that rested at the top of three steps.

Yuri climbed the steps and, balancing her with one arm, dug some keys out of his pocket.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“My home. Sort of. The network owns this apartment building,” he told her as he unlocked the door and opened it. Stepping inside a stairwell, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

He dropped the keys back in his pocket. “Humans live on the lower floors,” he murmured, reclaiming his hold on her with both arms. “All of them are single, early-to-bed-early-to-rise professionals who are dead to the world during most of the nighttime hours. The top two floors have been soundproofed and provide apartments for Immortal Guardians. Stanislav, me, and six others. Our Seconds have adjacent apartments. This is our private entrance,” he said, nodding to the door through which they had just passed, “so none of the other residents in the building will see the damp patches on our clothes or blood smears on our skin and panic.”

The stairwell blurred and cool wind whipped Cat's hair as he raced up she-didn't-know-how-many flights of stairs and stopped before another door. Opening it, he stepped into a hallway that reminded her a little of Sublevel 5 at network headquarters. Just beyond the door lay a desk, behind which half a dozen men sat. Instead of wearing black fatigues, however, they wore suits.

All still bore automatic weapons, though.

One of the men rose. “Evening, sir.”

Yuri nodded at them and strode past.

Cat felt the curious gazes cast her way. But none questioned him.

Yuri jogged up another set of stairs and, at last, stopped before what she assumed was his apartment. Lowering her to her feet, he opened the unlocked door. Then he took her hand and led her inside.

He flicked on a light.

Cat got a quick impression of a large open space with modern furnishings before he closed the door and turned a lock on it.

She stared up at him, pulse racing.

“I can't believe you're here,” he whispered. Drawing her into his arms, he hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. “I can't believe you did it. That it worked.”

Cat burrowed into him, so happy to finally feel his big, hard body against hers, to have his arms tighten around her instead of passing right through her.

“I know I said the tingling your touch inspires is pleasant,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her ear, “but this is soooo much better.”

Cat laughed, tears rising, and nodded against his chest.

“Let me get this coat off.”

Stepping back, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes while he shrugged off his coat, then tugged the sweater beneath it over his head, revealing a plain black T-shirt bereft of bloodstains.

Once more, he cupped her face in his hands, smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks.

Cat reached up and curled her fingers around his wrists, needing to touch him again. “I don't know how much time we have,” she whispered. “If you should awaken for any reason . . .”

A slow smile curled his lips. “I'm a sound sleeper. But just in case . . .”

He lowered his head and claimed her lips in a long, slow kiss that made her pulse race. Sliding a muscled arm around her waist, he drew her up against him. Without the coat as a buffer, she could feel how hard he already was for her.

Her heart began to pound with excitement . . . and with a hint of nerves.

“What's wrong?” Yuri murmured against her lips, resting his hands on her hips and slowly walking her backward, farther into the apartment.

How had he known?

“Is your heart pounding because you want me?” he asked, his glowing amber eyes peering into hers, “or because you're nervous?”

“Both?” she responded with some despair. She wanted to be bold and passionate like Sarah and Krysta and the other immortal women she'd accidentally caught making love with their husbands. But . . . “I've only ever been with Blaise,” she admitted.

“Your husband?”

“Yes. And it wasn't . . . It didn't . . .” make her throw back her head and moan in ecstasy.

Yuri arched a brow. “It didn't knock your socks off?”

She laughed. “Yes. It wasn't like what we heard in the romance audiobooks.” How those had made her flush!

“Don't worry,” he said and pressed a light kiss to her lips, “I won't do anything you won't like.” He kissed her again. “And will do
many
things you'll like,” he purred.

Cat's nervousness dissipated as she smiled up at him.

“That's what I want to see,” he said. “Now put your arms around me.”

When he leaned down, she slid her arms around his neck.

He straightened, taking her with him and lifting her feet off the floor. Fisting his free hand in her long skirt, he drew it up to her knees. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Cat did as bidden, heat climbing her cheeks.

The glow in his eyes brightened as he released her skirts and slid a hand over her bottom.

The heart of her rested against his erection, still separated by their clothing. His eyes never leaving hers, he strolled down a hallway and into a smaller, darker room illuminated only by the light that spilled into it from the living room. Every step created delicious friction. Sparks of what Cat came to understand was desire shot through her with every brush of him against her core.

When he halted, she didn't want the wonderful feeling to end and arched against him.

He hissed in a breath. “You aren't going to let me do this slowly, are you?”

She rubbed against him again. “Not if everything you're going to do will make me feel like this.”