Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 33

Tatiana gulped. Try as she might, she couldn't look away. She didn't answer.

"Are you jealous,bella mia ?"

"No," she lied. His eyes narrowed in on her knowingly, searching. His hand moved to her throat, gauging the racing speed of her pulse. Weakly, she admitted, "Perhaps a little."

Marcello's gaze lit with pleasure. A slow smile began to curl his lips.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" she cried, pulling away in anger. "You don't have to laugh at me. I don't care for it anymore than you do. Fine, I said it. I'm jealous. I wanted to rip all of their eyes out of their pretty little heads. Happy? I'm jealous and I'm tired and I hate it. Oh, quit looking at me, I hate you too."

Marcello's smile only grew, not so quick to believe her as she crawled over the bed. Making a wide arch to the wardrobe so she wouldn't have to go near him, she began to undress.

"You have no reason for jealousy,bella mia ," Marcello stated. He came slowly up behind her as she tugged out of her gown.

She gasped to see him so close and held her gown before her in a maidenly act that amused him. "They are only food to me. I did nothing else with them."

"You didn't?" she asked, her jade eyes wide and vulnerable. She'd imagined him with them in so many ways. Tatiana frowned. What was suddenly wrong with her that she couldn't keep her mouth shut? Her face hardened, as she forced out, "You should have. I don't care what you do--or who for that matter. Go sleep with them all, I really don't care."

She wore only her chemise and corset, clutching her gown to her chest. Realizing how ridiculous it was to hide from him, she laid the gown aside and grabbed a red robe.

"Tatiana," Marcello's smooth Italian accent came from behind her.

"What?" she demanded in irritation.

"Come here to me."

She forced a heavy sigh. "It is almost dawn and you will undoubtedly be out soon and I am exhausted from fighting off Lord Adolfe--"

Marcello's warm body pressed into her back stopped her rapid flow of words. His strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her into his tight, naked body. His warm lips pressed along her neck in a delicate kiss that weakened her knees and caused a soft moan to escape her lips.

"Tell me I am enthralled by you," she whispered. Her hand lifted to touch his face, encouraging his kiss. "Tell me everything I feel for you is a dream, like what you did with Cesare."

"No,bella mia , you are very much awake," he whispered, licking at the delicate cords buried in her throat.

Tatiana turned in his arms, ready to receive his kiss with one of her own. She pressed her body into him, accepting his length along hers. There was no point in denying what they both wanted. It's not like it mattered or like anyone cared what they did.

Before her lips met his, she whispered, "I was afraid of that."

Chapter Fourteen.

Broderick looked over the dawn tinted streets. Paris looked much different in the light of day. No longer the bright wondrous nightlife of wicked pleasures, it now looked dirty and stale and reeked of human sweat and trash. Drunken humans from the night before snored in the gutters and alleyways. A few awoke to the kicks of patrolmen, only to stumble their way home, cursing and sputtering in slurring protest.

His vivid blue eyes gleamed with amber gold as he lifted the entry to Marcello's catacomb home. Glancing behind him, he saw his carriage was ready and waiting. Broderick took a pouch from his waist and opened it. Inside was a light brown powder.

Taking a handful, he blew the powder down into the opening and began to whisper an ancient spell in a language long dead to the human world.

Broderick closed his eyes and concentrated as he spoke. A slight breeze whipped his fas.h.i.+onably short dark hair around his head. He wore simple clothes, a light jacket. The morning sun had yet to reach overhead and the streets were shadowed because of it. He hated this deceit, hated that he must kidnap Tatiana, but knew no other way to lure the witch out.

Tatiana yawned. She blinked but couldn't see in the pitch black around her. Feeling the dead weight of Marcello's arm over her waist, she knew it must still be daytime. She sighed, feeling content in his arms. Then, frowning, she smelled a faint odor of flowers and dirt.

Without stopping to think, she worked herself out from under Marcello's arm. He tried to hold her closer, pulling her snug against his naked body. She lightly kissed his jaw and patted absently at his neck. The smell reminded her of spring, of home, of happiness and girlhood pleasures. She felt Marcello s.h.i.+ft and this time, when she tried to move, he let her go.

Her body was sore from the vigorous pleasure of Marcello's claiming. He may be a vampire with tireless pa.s.sions, but she was only human and could barely keep up. Though, truth be told, she'd wanted to try desperately. Even now, her body wanted him--always wanted him. It was crazy how much she longed for him--the creature, the demon who held her prisoner. And yet, as she thought of freedom and escape, she did not long for it. Instead, the idea suddenly horrified her. She was content to remain forever his slave.

Absently, she felt the end of the bed and pulled on her silk robe. She walked to the bedchamber door, slipping out into the dining hall. The scent of flowers grew stronger and she heard a low male voice singing in her head, soothing words she couldn't understand. There was peace in that voice, soft and tender. Her mind became numb with the single-minded purpose of following the smell and finding the bearer of the golden, silky voice.

She walked through the dark, instinctively moving around furniture and up the stairs to the catacomb mazes above. Her bare feet swished lightly on stone. The smell of flowers grew stronger with each step, calling her forth. She smiled, her limbs felt like those of a child. Whatever the smell, it made her feel good--young and innocent again, pure. Her steps began to lighten and skipped past the dark piles of skulls and bones, unable to see them, not caring that they were there. She cut through the darkness with ease, moving on instinct rather than sight.

Seeing a dim light, Tatiana giggled and moved toward it. Her wide eyes stared up from the dark, seeing sunlight for the first time in a long time. The warmth of the day hit her and reminded her of how much she loved lying in a bed of flowers warmed by sun.

"No," she heard a whisper from behind.

Tatiana blinked, confused. She looked into the dark and saw a pale hand reaching for her. She gasped in fright, backing away into the light. The hand didn't stop, but followed her into the sun. It was a woman's hand, frail and slender. Soon, Alice's face emerged from the darkness to look at her. The bright blue of the dead woman's gaze stared into her.

Tatiana panted for breath, wis.h.i.+ng the woman would leave her be. Alice tried to reach her, coming closer. Tatiana began to cry, the big, scared tears of a child unable to move or scream. Her features twisted in violent terror. Alice withdrew at the look and Tatiana calmed enough to look at her.

"Alice," Tatiana mourned, staring into her face. "Alice, forgive me. I am so sorry. Please, forgive me."

Alice's eyes turned up toward the light and again the ghostly whisper sounded, "No."

Suddenly, Alice faded completely.

"Ah-ha! There you are, my lady."

Tatiana screamed. A firm hand latched onto her upper arm and she felt herself being lifted into the air, wrenched from her place on the steps. She flew out of the opening, into the air, as if she were no heavier than a feather. With a thump, she landed in a thick pair of arms. Her silk robe parted and offered little protection from her captor's gaze. The heat of his body soaked into her.

"You," she gasped, recognizing the man from that very alley. She struggled to be free. He didn't even flinch. "What do you want? Who are you?"

"I am Broderick," he answered. She tried to kick, but his arms held more strength than should've been humanly possible.

"What do you want with me? I demand you put me down!" she cried, pounding at him. His eyes flashed with gold. His mouth elongated slightly and he gave a vicious snap of his teeth. With a frightened gasp, she instantly froze.

Broderick took advantage of her sudden stillness and tossed her up into the carriage. Her robes flew open revealing the long line of her naked legs and stomach. She gasped, trying to cover herself before she'd even landed. Then, calling an order to the driver, Broderick followed her inside. Seeing her clutching her robe, he chuckled in mild amus.e.m.e.nt. The carriage took off at a fast pace, jostling them on their seats.

"Are you a demon?" she asked, fearful. All too well she remembered the pain of his blade in the frozen witch's heart.

"Nay, my lady, I am but a friend," Broderick stated, his voice soft as he tried to soothe her, "if you but let me be."

"You are not human and you can't be vampire," she breathed. "You walk in the sunlight."

Broderick smiled. He bowed his head, settling comfortably on the carriage seat. Relaxing his large body, he studied her from under the veil of his lashes. "Yea, you are right on both counts. I am a lycan--a werewolf."

Broderick laughed. He let his eyes flick again with a dangerous gold. Tatiana gasped, shaking her head in heated denial. And, with a series of horrified pants, Tatiana did the only thing she could. She fainted.

Marcello heard the scream echoing in his head. He knew Tatiana was in trouble. With supernatural speed, he chased after her.

He caught the strong scent of her in the catacombs mixed with an unfamiliar blending of herbs. As he saw the stream of sunlight from above, he skidded to a stop, inches away from his fiery death. He pulled back. His heart pounded wildly and never had he cursed his vampiric weakness as he did in that moment.

His skin tightened, threatening to turn to ash should he stay too long in the sun's presence. The light burned his eyes to look at it and he had to turn away before he went blind. He was forced back into the shadows. Hopelessness overwhelmed him as he made his way back into the darkness of his catacomb home. He yelled in outrage, beating his hands b.l.o.o.d.y upon the stones. Tatiana was gone.