Immortal Sins

"Tricia, what’s wrong?"

"My head hurts."

Kari’s heart skipped a beat. Could Tricia’s memory be coming back? "Try to remember. The night you came to see the painting, you were wearing jeans and that red T-shirt with the little white hearts on it. You came over after the painting broke, too, and I showed you the notes he’d written to me. You said the ink looked like blood–"

"Oh, Lord," Tricia said with a groan. "I do remember."

Kari sank back against the sofa, suddenly weak with relief. Tricia knew. Tricia believed her.

"But a vampire…Really, Kari, what makes you think he’s a vampire?"

"Because that’s what he is. Tricia, he drank my blood."

"What? Are you…Good Lord, don’t tell me you’re a vampire, too!"

"No, of course not."

"Well, he was gorgeous and he seemed to make you happy, so I can understand why you miss him, but, as you said, you’re better off without him."

"I didn’t say that. I just said it’s probably best that he’s gone."

"You didn’t fall in love with him, did you?"

"Yes, I’m afraid I did."

With a sigh, Tricia said, "Well, Kari, you know those romances never turn out well in the movies. Someone always comes along and drives a stake through Dracula’s heart."

Kari laughed in spite of herself. "Thanks, Tricia, I needed that."

"Well, that’s what friends are for. Is there anything I can do?"

"You’ve done it. I just needed someone I could talk to, someone who knew the truth."

"Well, I’m here for you anytime."

"I know, and I appreciate that. I’ll talk to you later."

"I’m sure you will," Tricia said, chuckling. "Bye for now."

"Bye."

Kari hung up the receiver. Nothing had really changed. Rourke was still gone. She still missed him. But she felt better just the same.

Later that evening, curled up in a corner of the sofa with a cup of peppermint tea, she tried to concentrate on the video she had rented earlier that day, but it was no use. She could think of nothing but Rourke. Where was he tonight? Was he thinking about her? Or was he off with the beautiful, red-haired vampire she had seen him with not so long ago? Maybe they were off somewhere making up for the night they had missed out on because Rourke had been with her. The thought that he might be making love to another woman was like a knife twisting in her soul.

She was blinking back tears when the doorbell rang. With her heart in her throat, she put the cup on the table and hurried to answer the door. Please, she thought, please let it be him.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the lock. A breath of cold air assailed her when she opened the door, but it was nothing compared to the disappointment that swept through her when she saw it wasn’t Rourke standing on the porch, but a frail-looking man with papery-looking skin, long gray hair, and the blackest eyes she had ever seen.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Finally, she managed a weak, "May I help you?"

"I am looking for Jason Rourke. I was told I could find him here."

"I’m sorry, he’s not here." Nor likely to be anytime soon, she thought glumly.

"When will he return?"

"I don’t expect him back."

A muscle worked in the stranger’s jaw. His black eyes narrowed.

Kari took a step backward, chilled by the stark expression in his eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

The stranger didn’t move, yet he seemed to become more than he was. "I am Josef Vilnius."

She stared at him thinking that, on some deep, subconscious level, she had known it all along.

"And you…" His gaze bored into her. "You are Karinna."

"Yes." The word was drawn from her throat as if he had reached inside and forced it out.

"You care for him?"

"Yes."

"Does he care for you?"

She tried to deny it, but again, she found herself saying, "Yes," remembering, as she did so, that the last woman who had cared for Rourke had ended up trapped inside a painting for three hundred years.

The wizard nodded, and the night seemed to grow darker, colder.

Kari shivered. Unable to draw her gaze from his, unable to retreat into the house, she wrapped her arms around her middle and waited.

Vilnius studied her for several minutes the way a scientist might study a newly discovered species.

She studied him in return. He wore a pair of expensive-looking dark gray slacks, and a light gray jacket over a crisp white shirt. A tiny diamond stud winked in his right ear; his left hand sported a ring set with a blood opal.

Something froze deep inside her when he nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice sounding the way she imagined a snake would sound if it could talk. "Yes, I think you might be useful. For a while."

She didn’t like the sound of that at all, and liked it less when she tried to shut the door in his face and discovered that she couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t even blink.

A slow smile spread over the wizard’s face. "Useful, yes," he repeated.

And then everything went black.

Chapter 29

Rourke stood on the sidewalk in front of Karinna’s house. He hadn’t intended to return to America until he had settled his score with Vilnius, but he had spent two weeks at the wizard’s home waiting for him to return, but to no avail. As much as Rourke yearned for revenge, his need to see Karinna again had been stronger, and so he had abandoned his quest for revenge, for the time being, and come home.

Rourke grinned faintly. Home, he thought. For him, it wasn’t a place, but a woman. He hadn’t seen Karinna for a fortnight and he had missed her more than he would have thought possible. He hadn’t found a secure lair before he’d gone in search of Vilnius, so he had spent the day before resting in the ground, and while Mother Earth offered a refuge from the sun, he preferred to take his rest in a bed on a firm mattress. He had considered spending the day in Karinna’s shed, but, for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, it hadn’t seemed right.

Using his preternatural powers, he had obtained a hotel room the night before, which had provided him with access to a shower and a place to change his clothes, though he hadn’t dared to take his rest there. It might have been safe, but he felt too exposed in the room. There were too many windows, too many unknown people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. It had, however, provided him with a new hunting ground.

His hunger stirred, and with it, his desire for Karinna. Ah, Karinna. Not only had he missed the woman herself, but he had missed the creature comforts of her house, the sense of homecoming he had felt whenever he entered her abode, the friendly warmth of a fire in the hearth, the casual evenings they had spent watching the television together, or playing cards.