Destined for an Early Grave (Page 33)

I did, wondering how much trouble I was in for eavesdropping. To my relief, Gregor didn’t seem to care that I’d been listening. He opened the closet and handed me a coat.

"Put this on. We’re leaving."

"Now?" I asked. A part of me was singing at my unexpected respite. "What’s wrong?"

"I’ll tell you on the way," he answered, taking my arm and almost yanking me out the door. "We don’t have time to delay."

Two more vampires were waiting with the back open to a black Mercedes. We climbed inside and instantly sped off. The velocity threw me backward. I didn’t even have time to buckle my seat belt. Okay, so we were in a big hurry.

"What’s wrong?" I asked again.

Gregor stared at me for a long moment. That freaked me out. It looked like he was making up his mind about something.

"Catherine," he said, "you have been discovered. Even as we speak, Bones’s allies are searching the city for you. If they find you, they will turn you into the monster I described."

I was stricken. "Oh, please, don’t let them! I don’t want to be a killer. I don’t want to – to become some kind of whore."

For a split second, I’d have almost sworn he looked triumphant. But then his forehead creased, and he shook his head.

"There is only one way to prevent this, ma cherie. You must bind yourself to me. It is the only thing that can’t be undone."

"Sure, bind me." Whatever that meant. "Bind the hell out of me, just don’t turn me over to those monsters!"

"Lucius, to the Ritz," he barked. The car did a swerve that had my life flashing before my eyes, then it straightened. "Tell the others to assemble there as well. I’m not binding myself in the backseat of a stinking car."

Then he turned to me. "Catherine, if you do this, you’ll be protected for all of your days. If you don’t, then I can’t save you or your family. So when the time comes, don’t hesitate."

That sounded ominous. It occurred to me to have him specify what "binding" meant. "Er, what do I have to do?"

He took my hand, drawing his finger down my palm. "You cut yourself here," he outlined simply, "then clasp my hand and declare yourself mine. I cut my hand and do the same."

"That’s it?" I was afraid it might have entailed turning me into a vampire. "Jeez, give me a knife, let’s do it!"

He smiled and kept my hand in his. "There must be witnesses, and Lucius isn’t enough. Furthermore, this isn’t the proper place for our first union, and I’m not waiting to claim you once you’re mine."

There was no translation needed for that statement. Well, considering the alternative, I’d pay this price.

"So this is like a vampire…engagement, if we’re saying we belong to each other?" I couldn’t look at him as I asked. Everything was moving so fast.

Gregor paused, seeming to choose his words. "There’s no such state among vampires. If you must have a human analogy, ‘twould be considered a marriage."

Marriage? I had enough sense not to blurt, But I’m not old enough! We were talking about undead rules, not human ones.

"So it’s not like we sign papers or I change my name, right?" With a nervous laugh. "It’s just a vampire thing?"

Lucius glanced back at us. Gregor snapped something, and he averted his attention back to the road. Then Gregor smiled.

"Exactly. In your religion or customs, it has no meaning."

"Oh." Now I was just worried about getting away from the fiend chasing us and losing my virginity. "Okay, then."

Two of Gregor’s people checked us in to the opulent hotel. Gregor was with six of the vampires who’d come in with us, and I was sent to browse the dress store nearby. Gregor was talking very low, and they stood close together. With all the background noise, I couldn’t hear a word.

I fingered the dress in front of me. It was peacock blue and silky, with etched beading down the side of it. Next to me, a young blonde was also looking at dresses, only she was much more enthusiastic. She knocked a few off their perch as she held one and another up before discarding the selected pieces.

"Whenever you’re in a hurry, you can’t find a thing to wear," she remarked in English.

I glanced around. "Are you talking to me?"

She laughed. "Of course. I don’t speak French, and I heard that guy you were with tell you to stay put in English. I’m American, too. Been in France long?"

She seemed harmless, but I knew Gregor wouldn’t want me chatting with a stranger. I was supposed to keep a low profile.

"Not long," I answered, pretending to examine a dress across the other aisle.

She followed me. "Hey, is this orange hideous with my complexion?"

I studied the dress. "Yes," I said truthfully.

"That’s what I thought!" She swung an accusing glance at the sales assistant. "The French hate Americans. She’d tell me to wear a garbage bag and charge me a grand for it."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gregor walking toward me. He didn’t look happy. ", I gotta go. My fiance’s coming. We’re ah, late for our rehearsal dinner."

She gaped. "You’re getting married? You look so young!"

I started moving toward him, sputtering, "Oil of Olay. It’s like the fountain of youth."

"Come along, Catherine," Gregor directed me with an impatient wave of his hand, giving the girl an annoyed scowl.

I hurried after him, hearing her mutter, "Friggin’ rude French," as we headed to the elevators with our guard.

Our room was on the top floor. As soon as we entered it, the guards drew all the drapes, cutting off the amazing view of the Paris skyline. Through the open door across from us, I saw the bedroom and shivered. End of the line, my mind mocked me.

"Give me the knife," Gregor ordered, not wasting any time.

A small silver blade, etched with some sort of design along the handle, was passed to him. Gregor sliced into his palm without hesitation and held up his hand.

"By my blood, she is my wife. Catherine." He gave me the blade. "Do as I did. Repeat my words."

For a second, I hesitated. Seven sets of eyes were trained on me. Gregor’s mouth tightened ominously. I gave myself a mental shake and cut the inside of my palm, before he exploded.

"By my blood, I am his wife," I parroted, relieved and frightened when Gregor’s face relaxed. He clasped my hand, and the tingle when his blood met my wound startled me.

The six men let out a loud cheer. They hugged Gregor and kissed his cheeks before repeating the same gesture with me. He was smiling also, his hand still wrapped around mine, the beginnings of emerald pinpointing in his eyes.