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Immortal Sins


"No. Good night."


"Rourke..."


"I need to feed," he said curtly. "Your warmth and your nearness tempt me almost beyond measure. Do you understand?"


"Not really."


"Pray you never do," he said, then vanished from her sight.


Chapter 9


Rourke lingered in the shadows, keeping watch over Karinna until she was safely inside the house, and then he continued on his way.


Leaving the city behind, he ventured into the shadowy world beyond the lights. He ran effortlessly for miles, caught up in the sheer joy of being free after three hundred years of captivity. He reveled in the sting of the wind against his face, the feel of the earth beneath his feet, the rich fragrance of flowers and foliage, the heady smell of life itself.


Slowing to a walk, he ran his hands over his face, flexed his arms and shoulders. He paused to glance up at the sky, appreciating the heavenly display as never before. A full moon shone brightly; stars without number stretched away into infinity.


In spite of his preternatural powers, he felt small and insignificant as he stood there. He had often pondered what his fate would be when his existence ended. As a child, his mother had taught him that there was a power mightier than all the kings of the earth and that every man, woman, and child who ever drew breath would one day be judged by that Infinite Being. Those who believed and kept the Law would be taken to Paradise; those who rebelled against the Word would be sent to everlasting torment. There had been no mention in his religious upbringing of vampires, but from what his mother had taught him, he was pretty sure that his current lifestyle, even though he hadn't sought it, would not be viewed with approbation or forgiveness. He could think of no worse punishment for a vampire than burning in a fiery hell through all eternity.


Shaking off such dismal thoughts, he continued walking, approaching the city from the other side. The buildings in this part of town were mostly rundown, many of them boarded up and uninhabited. It was here that the dregs of the city congregated, plying whatever nefarious trade they could.


It was here that he came to feed.


He prowled among the beggars and the winos and the shysters until he found a man who was a little less drunk and dirty than the others. He took what he needed quickly, grimacing as the stink of the man's unwashed body filled his nostrils. There was no need to erase his memory from the man's mind. Even if the wastrel remembered what had happened, no one was likely to believe the ravings of a sot.


With his hunger appeased, Rourke turned his thoughts to finding a place to spend the upcoming daylight hours. He needed a lair; a secure, private place to call his own. In days long past, he had taken his rest in aboveground tombs or in caves, but neither of those options was available here. A house with a cellar would suffice. Perhaps Karinna could help him find one.


If only she could help him find Vilnius. He had no way of knowing if the wizard still lived, or where he might be, no idea how to find the treacherous sorcerer in this new world.


He glanced at the sky. It was still several hours until dawn.


"Where are you, Vilnius?" he wondered aloud, and then he frowned. If he was a witch, where would he go to find other witches? A coven, of course, but how to find one in this day and age? That was the question.


Tomorrow he would search for the answer.


Kari sat at her desk at work, her gaze fixed on her computer screen, but it wasn't the image on the screen she saw. Instead, her mind kept conjuring images of Jason Rourke. In spite of everything, it was still hard to believe he was real, and harder still to believe he was a vampire. Who would have thought that such creatures actually existed! And how had they managed to keep it a secret for so long? Of course, if she went into Charlie's cubicle and told him she had met a vampire, he would never believe her, and neither would anyone else she knew. Like Tricia. If only Rourke hadn't erased Tricia's memory, she might have been able to convince Trish that Rourke had been the man in the painting. Not only that, but she would have had someone to confide in, someone who wouldn't think she was crazy.


The thought had no sooner crossed her mind when the phone rang. In one of those spooky moments, she knew it was her best friend on the phone even before she picked it up. "Hello?"


"Hey, Kari, it's me."


"Oh, hi, Trish."


"You were supposed to call me, remember?"


"I know, but I've been really busy."


"I can imagine. Come on now, 'fess up. Who is he? Where did you meet him? Is it serious?"


Kari laughed softly, then quickly sobered. It was beyond belief that Tricia could have seen Rourke in the painting, met him in Kari's bedroom, and didn't remember a thing about it. Vampire magic, indeed!


"Kari, talk to me! My gosh, the man is gorgeous."


"Calm down, girlfriend, you're married, remember?"


"I know, I know, but I'm not dead or blind. So, come on, where did you meet him and how long have you known him?"


"I met him at that little art gallery over on Third and Pine a few weeks ago," Kari said, thinking that it was true, in a manner of speaking.


"And...?"


"And what? The man is like a fair-haired angel, a gentleman unlike any man I've ever known, and really sexy."


"No kidding. So, have you...?"


"Tricia! I just met the man."


"But?"


"I can hardly keep my hands off him," Kari admitted. If only he wasn't a vampire! If only she could tell Tricia the truth.


"I can understand that," Tricia said, laughing.


"Well, it doesn't matter. It's too soon after Ben, and...well, it's just too soon."


"He's not from around here, is he?" Tricia asked.


"What do you mean?"


"I mean, he seems like a foreigner, the way he talks, very proper, you know?"


"He's from...Romania."


"Really? I never knew anyone from there."


"Me neither."


"Well, all I can say is, wow, you'd better hang on to this one."


"We'll see," Kari said evasively. "Listen, Tricia, I've got to get back to work."


"All right. Talk to you soon."


"Bye."


"Bye."


Kari hung up the receiver, then stared at the phone. Darn Rourke for erasing Tricia's memories. She really needed someone she could talk to about this whole vampire thing, someone who wouldn't think she was losing her mind.


With a shake of her head, Kari changed the font of the text on the screen, then feathered the adjoining image. She smiled, pleased with the result, but, all too soon, she found herself thinking about Jason Rourke again. Would she see him tonight? Where was he now? Had he found a coffin to sleep in? She shuddered at the thought, and then she frowned. How would he find a coffin in a strange city? He didn't have any money to buy such a thing. Would he steal one or just, heaven forbid, scrounge around in a graveyard for a used one?


After saving her work, she signed on to the Internet, clicked on Google, and looked up vampires. There were thousands of links! Real vampires, vampire history, monstrous vampires, vampires in myth and history, theatres des vampires. The list went on and on. According to one site, a vampire was a creature who rose at night to prey on others, drinking their blood to gain immortality. Reading on, she learned that drinking blood wasn't peculiar just to vampires. Apparently the Aztecs and some Native Americans ate the hearts and drank the blood of their captives in special rituals in order to obtain fertility and immortality. Some of the sites included images of vampires. She perused them with interest. Some depicted the Undead as hideous creatures with bloody fangs and red eyes; others depicted them as bloodthirsty but sensual creatures.


According to Webster's, a vampire was "the reanimated body of a dead person believed to come from the grave at night and suck the blood of persons asleep."


Another site put forth the theory that a person became a vampire because the earth refused to accept the body and heaven refused to accept the soul. No reasons were given for this.


None of the descriptions of vampires painted a very pretty picture. Certainly none of them described the hunky build, long blond hair, and mesmerizing blue eyes of Jason Rourke.


Kari lifted a hand to her neck. He had bitten her and taken her blood. Funny, she couldn't remember it more clearly, but maybe that was a good thing. What would it be like to have to drink the blood of others to live? She had tasted her own blood, of course, but then, sooner or later everyone did that. It was a common thing to lick your finger if you got a paper cut or a scratch. But to drink enough to live on? And someone else's? Yuck and double yuck!


She glanced at the time on her computer. It was almost five-thirty. She had been off the clock for the last twenty-five minutes.


She shut down her computer, turned off the monitor, gathered her handbag, and headed out the door.


Kari's heart was pounding erratically when she pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. The sun was down.


Where was her vampire?


Her vampire? What was she thinking?


Feeling uneasy yet filled with a strange sense of anticipation, she unlocked the front door and quickly closed it behind her. She glanced automatically at the empty space over the fireplace, thinking how bare the wall looked without the Vilnius, then glanced at the shopping bags she had carried inside last night.


She stood in the middle of the living room, listening, waiting, then sighed with disappointment. He wasn't there. She told herself she should be relieved. But he was bound to return. After all, he had to pick up all the clothes she had bought him last night. She grinned inwardly. If they went shopping again, she'd probably have to find a second job just to pay for it all.


Going into her bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and changed into a pair of faded jeans and a baggy sweater, then went into the kitchen, where she fixed a toasted cheese sandwich and tomato soup for dinner. She ate in front of the TV, but her mind wasn't on what she was eating, or on the six o'clock news. Even though Rourke frightened her, she had expected to find him waiting for her when she got home. She was surprised at how disappointed she was that he wasn't there. Maybe disappointed wasn't quite the right word. After all, she had been obsessed with the man--or whatever he was--for over a week. Thinking about that now made her realize just how empty her life had become since she broke up with Ben. She had taken refuge at home, shunning the company of others while she nursed her broken heart. It occurred to her now that it hadn't been broken at all, merely bruised.

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