Immortal Sins

Vega gestured at the sofa. "Sit down."

Rourke shook his head. "I need to talk to Ana."

Vega grunted softly. "What’s wrong?"

"I cannot free Karinna from the painting."

Vega frowned. "Ana said her father’s death would break the spell."

"I thought so, too, but when I called Karinna’s name, nothing happened. I need to ask Ana if she knows what to do."

"I’ll get her," Vega said, and left the room.

Rourke paced the floor restlessly. Ana was his only hope. He cursed himself for killing the wizard. He should have waited until Karinna was freed from the wizard’s spell. He had known there was a possibility that Vilnius would employ a different incantation. He had known, and still he had acted rashly. And now Karinna would pay the price for his impatience.

He stopped pacing when Vega returned with Ana.

"Jason, I am so sorry," Ana said.

"You must help me."

"I do not know what I can do. My father has had years to perfect his magick."

"You can try, can you not?"

"Of course."

Moments later, the three of them stood in front of the hearth in Karinna’s living room.

Moving closer to the painting, Ana closed her eyes, her senses reaching out, searching in the air for her father’s signature. She felt it like a dark stain hovering over the canvas, knew her father had used Dark Magick to cast and bind the spell. Its power crawled over her skin like a loathsome spider.

With a gasp, she backed away.

"What is it?" Rourke asked sharply.

Ana wrapped her arms around her middle. "I can feel the spell, but I do not know how to counter it. I have never dabbled in the Dark Arts."

"What if we break the glass?" Vega asked. "Would that break the spell?"

"I do not know," Ana said. "It might."

"Or it might kill her," Rourke said, finishing her thought.

Vega glanced at Ana Luisa. "Is that right?"

Ana nodded. "Or she might already be dead."

"No!" The word was ripped from Rourke’s throat.

"I am sorry," Ana Luisa said quietly, her eyes filling with sympathy, "but killing Vilnius may have killed Karinna as well. Perhaps that was why calling her name did not break the enchantment."

"No." Rourke shook his head, refusing to consider the possibility that Karinna could be lost to him forever.

"I wish I could help. Truly, I do." Ana Luisa laid her hand on Rourke’s arm. "If I think of anything that might help, I will let you know."

Rourke nodded. A few minutes later, Ana Luisa and Vega left the house.

Rourke dropped to his knees on the floor in front of the hearth. Karinna couldn’t be dead. He had no desire to exist in the world if she wasn’t in it. He loved her more than his own life, could not go on existing if his thirst for revenge had cost the life of the only woman he had ever loved.

No, there had to be a way to break the enchantment. He swore softly. He would not give up, refused to believe that she was lost to him forever. He was a creature with remarkable abilities. He could change shape, compel others to do his bidding, influence the wind and the weather, move faster than the human eye could follow, and what good was any of it if he couldn’t help Karinna?

Somehow, there had to be a way to break the spell that bound her, and he would find it if it took the rest of his existence.

In the last hour before dawn, he opened his senses, his mind seeking Karinna’s, and finding only emptiness.

Fear iced its way through his veins. He had not fully considered how an ordinary mortal might react to being magicked into a painting, even if it was only for a short time. He remembered his own initial panic at finding himself trapped behind a wall of glass, remembered the endless nights when he had been helpless to move, and knew now that without his preternatural powers he surely would have gone insane. Was that already happening to Karinna? Was it the effect of the wizard’s death that made her thoughts sluggish, or merely the effect of the enchantment? Or had her mind taken refuge in some stygian place deep within her soul where he would never be able to find her?

Refusing to consider that possibility, he tried again. After twenty minutes of concentrated effort, his mind touched hers.

"Karinna?"

"Rourke?"

"Hang on, sweeting," he implored. "I know you are afraid. I know it is hard to hold on to your identity, but do not give up."

"What…why…?"

He knew what she was asking. Why hadn’t he freed her? "I do not know how to free you, but I will not give up trying, no matter how long it takes."

He felt her fear, the tears she couldn’t shed, felt the hot sting of tears in his own eyes when her voice whispered in his mind.

"I knew…you would…come for me."

Sitting on the sofa late the next night, Rourke stared at Karinna’s painted image as he sought to connect with her mind once again. He smiled when he realized she was asleep. He had invaded her dreams before. If they could not be together in the flesh, perhaps he could again wander through her unconscious mind.

Closing his eyes, he followed the link between them into her subconscious.

"Rourke! How did you get here? Where are we?"

Wherever you want us to be."

"I don’t understand."

"You are asleep, sweeting."

He took her hand in his and led her down a narrow dirt path that led to a winding river bordered by lacy trees and tall ferns. Birds sang in the treetops, chipmunks ran back and forth. Overhead, an eagle soared against a clear blue sky.

"Is this place to your liking?" he asked. "If not, we can go somewhere else."

"I don’t care where we are as long as you’re with me."

Murmuring her name, he drew her down on a blanket that suddenly appeared beneath them.

"Rourke, what went wrong?"

"I do not know how to break the enchantment that Vilnius worked on the painting." He watched her face, saw the horror in her eyes when she realized what he was saying.

"Then…" Her voice broke. "I’m trapped in here? Forever?"

"No!"

"But if you can’t free me…" Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"I will find a way to get you out," he said fervently. "And if I cannot…I will come in here and stay with you."

"No! How can you even think such a thing?"

"Would you rather be alone?"

"No, but…you already spent three hundred years imprisoned. I can’t ask you to do it again."