Immortal Sins

His knuckles slid down her cheek. "I do not know you nearly as well as I want to."

His words made her stomach quiver. "I’m just not ready for that. I mean, it’s a big step and we’re…we’re so different."

He pulled her closer. "Not so different. Feel how your body molds itself to mine, as if we had been designed for one another."

She nodded, too breathless to speak.

"I feel your yearning, your hunger. It is the same as mine." His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom, drawing her up against him, leaving no doubt that he wanted her. "You hesitate because of what I am, do you not?"

"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"But I am still a man, sweeting, capable of loving you, of protecting you, if need be. Be my woman." His lips brushed hers. "Be my wife."

"Wife? Are you asking me to marry you?"

"So it would seem."

Caught by surprise, she stared up at him. She had been expecting a completely different kind of proposal. She knew he wanted her. She had been on the brink of surrendering to the desire she saw in his eyes, to the need she heard in his voice. If she was totally honest with herself, it was what she wanted, as well. But to be his wife? Who would have thought that the Undead got married? What would it be like to be married to Rourke? Would she even survive the honeymoon? Mrs. Jason Rourke. It had a nice ring to it, but what would it be like to have a vampire for a husband, a man who could share only half of her life, who would be forever young and virile? What would her life be like without him?

"You need not answer now," he said.

"I never thought…I don’t know…are you sure this is what you want?"

"I would not have asked otherwise." He brushed a kiss across her lips. "It is a big decision for you, I know."

That was the understatement of the year!

He laughed softly when her stomach growled. "You need to eat," he said, "and so do I." He kissed her again. "I will not be gone long."

She nodded, blatantly reminded yet again of the vast gulf between them.

Chapter 21

Vilnius closed his traveling bag, then took a last turn around his dwelling place. He had taken care of everything here at home. Tomorrow, he would go after his daughter. It was time to bring her home, time to avenge himself once and for all on the vampire who had despoiled his only child. He intended to destroy Rourke this time, thereby ensuring that Ana Luisa would never again succumb to the creature’s lust. As for Luisa, he would be generous this time. He would forgive her for her past sins and bring her home. He would allow her to take her place at his side once again, and he would continue her education. She was a powerful witch, far more powerful than she knew. He had been careful to keep such knowledge from her and would continue to do so until she was older, wiser. Until she had her emotions under control. Until she knew her place.

He had but one more thing to do before he left home.

At midnight, he went down into the basement, where he practiced his magick, and closed the door, figuratively shutting out the distractions of the world. Magick could be done by day or by night, but late at night was the most opportune time for scrying, since it was easier to avoid the excessive psychic vibrations generated by the confusion of everyday living. Not only that, but he preferred the darkness.

Scrying was an ancient method of divination often used by witches and magicians. An old legend stated that the goddess Hathor had carried a shield that reflected all things in their true light. From this shield she had purportedly fashioned the first magic mirror.

The Ancient Greeks and Celts had used beryl, crystal, black glass, polished quartz, and water. Gypsy fortunetellers generally used a crystal ball, but the purpose was the same: to see into the future, or to find that which was lost. Other objects had been used through the ages. The Egyptians had used fresh blood or ink, the Romans had used shiny objects or stones. Mirrors were often used, as well, but Vilnius preferred living water.

He opened the cupboard where he kept his magical implements and the tools of his trade and withdrew several fat white candles, which he placed on the altar located in the center of the floor. He waved his hand over the wicks and the candles sprang to life, filling the room with iridescent light.

After drawing a piece of black chalk from his pants pocket, he drew a circle on the floor. Next, he filled a large black cauldron with water and placed it on the table between the candles.

Head bowed, he summoned his power, felt it gathering around him like a dark shroud. When the water settled, he focused his gaze on the mirror-like surface.

Lifting his hands at his sides, palms up, he chanted softly, "Eye of water, eye of fire, show me that which I desire."

Most people saw only shadows and patterns of light when scrying, but Vilnius was not like most people. He was a wizard without equal.

Slowly, the water began to shimmer. All the colors of the rainbow swirled across the surface, mixing, mingling, until the face of Jason Rourke stared back at him.

Supernatural power flowed through the room as Vilnius slowly stretched his arms over his head. He held them there a moment before slowly lowering them to his sides. "Eye of water, eye of creek, show me the lair of the one I seek."

Rourke’s image blurred and disappeared, and in its place Vilnius saw a two-story dwelling. The numbers 3235 were visible on the front of the house.

"Eye of ice, eye of snow, the city and state I would know."

The candlelight flickered on the walls, the house disappeared, and a map of a small town in northern California appeared on the dark surface of the water. A star indicated the name of the street he sought.

Vilnius muttered, "Blessed be," then emptied the cauldron into the sink, broke the circle, and blew out the candles. He had the information he needed. All he needed now was a suitable place to exact his revenge. When he had that, Jason Rourke’s future would be numbered in days instead of centuries.

Leaving the house, Vilnius locked the front door and set the wards. After tossing his luggage in the backseat of the Ferrari, he slid behind the wheel. He sat there a moment, enjoying the scent and feel of fine leather before he started the car. He loved being behind the wheel of the convertible, loved the low rumble of the powerful engine, the sense of exhilaration that came from being in control of such a finely crafted vehicle.

With the top down and the wind whistling in his ears, he paid no heed to traffic signals as he sped down the highway. Every light turned green as he approached.

He spent the night at a country inn. The next day, at the airport, he magicked his way on board, bypassing the endless lines and security checks. He loved flying. Indeed, he had embraced every new luxury and invention that mankind had discovered in the last four hundred years. The cleverness and ingenuity of the human race never failed to amaze him. He pitied the poor mortals who lived only a short span of years. They missed so much!