A Whisper of Eternity Read online

  "Great! Pick you up at seven?"

  "All right. How long have you been a lifeguard?"

  "Since I got out of high school. I'd do it all year, if they'd let me."

  "What do you do in the winter?"

  "I work over at the Y. I teach kids how to swim, hold classes in self-defense, and if there's enough interest, I teach tai chi."

  "You look like you lift weights."

  A faint flush colored his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I do that, too."

  "So, why don't you live in D.C. with your folks?"

  "They expect too much of me, you know? I mean, I think it's great that my brothers all followed in the old man's footsteps, but I'm just not cut out to be a cop. Or an accountant, for that matter. I'm afraid I'm a big disappointment to both of them."

  She laughed. "I'm a big disappointment to my folks, too. They were hoping I'd marry a doctor or a lawyer and give them a dozen grandchildren."

  "How about a lifeguard?"

  She laughed again, only to break off abruptly when he didn't join in. "You're not serious?"

  He nodded. " 'Fraid so."

  "But we just met, and…"

  "And I'm too young for you. Does age really matter? Would you be happier if I was older?"

  "No," she said, thinking of Dominic, "I wouldn't be happier. But, Bryan, we hardly know each other."

  "I'm hoping to remedy that." Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. "I've gotta go. See you tonight." Rising, he took a few steps, then turned back. "Hey, where do you live?"

  "Up there," she said, pointing. "The big house that looks like Dracula lives there." She said the words without thinking, and then shuddered. Dracula did live there.

  "Gotcha. See you at seven."

  Tracy stared after him, bemused. She hadn't had a date in months. Now she had a too-young lifeguard on one hand and a too-old vampire on the other. Given a choice… but she didn't have to decide, she drought, applying a fresh coat of suntan lotion. She could date anyone she wanted.

  But right now, she just wanted to soak up some sun.

  Bryan arrived at her door promptly at seven. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and boots and it occurred to her that, with his blond hair and blue eyes, he looked an awful lot like Brad Pitt.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yep, just let me get my jacket."

  "Jacket?"

  "It gets mighty cold in the theater sometimes. Come on in. I won't be a minute."

  She left Bryan in the living room while she ran upstairs to her bedroom to get her jacket.

  And almost ran into Dominic. She looked up at him, one hand pressed to her heart. "Dominic! What are you doing here?"

  "What is he doing here?"

  "Who? Oh, Bryan. We're going to the movies."

  "You're dating that boy?" he asked incredulously.

  She lifted her chin defiantly, though she was trembling inwardly, frightened by the intensity in his eyes. "Yes."

  He took a step forward. "You are mine. I will not share you with another."

  "I am not yours." Anger replaced her earlier fear.

  He took another step forward, and now he was towering over her, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his gray eyes smoldering with barely suppressed rage.

  "Listen, Dominic, I know you thrink you have some sort of prior claim on me or something, but you're wrong. I don't believe all that reincarnation mumbo jumbo. And even if I did, none of that matters now. I'm not any of those other people, not anymore. Now, if you'll excuse me, Bryan is waiting."

  Gathering her courage, she grabbed her jacket off the bed and swept past him. She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left the room.

  Bryan was waiting for her on the sofa downstairs. Grabbing him by the hand, she pulled him to his feet.

  "Come on," she said, "we don't want to be late."

  Dominic stared after her. She had ever been a fiery wench, but never before had she defied him so openly. He was tempted to go downstairs and let her see the full force of his wrath; instead, he took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. He could always kill the boy later, if necessary.

  Gathering his power around him like a cloak, he vanished from the house. He was sorely tempted to follow Tracy, to torment himself by watching her laugh and smile at another man, but to do so would only add fuel to the rage seething inside. Better to take himself far away from her before his jealousy got the best of him, before the beast that dwelled deep within him escaped his control. Should that happen, the boy would surely die.

  A thought took him into the city where he prowled the streets, feeding the hunger that would not be ignored. But there was no relief from the jealousy that plagued him, no respite from the anger churning in his gut.

  He slammed his hand against a wall, watched the stones turn to dust beneath the force of his blow. She was his! What right did she have to turn her back on him for some foolish mortal boy? He had followed her throughout time, waiting, always waiting, for her to realize that they were meant to be together.

  This time, he vowed, this time he would not lose her.

  "Well, that was one of the worst movies I've ever seen," Tracy said as they left the theater. "Who would have thought that a brilliant director and two sexy actors could turn out such junk?"

  "I guess you didn't like it," Bryan said dryly.

  "Did you?"

  "Well… I didn't think it was all that bad. The car chases were great. Do you want to go have some coffee?"

  "Sure."

  They walked across the street to a small cafe and ordered coffee and apple pie.

  "Car chases," Tracy said with a huff of annoyance. That's all movies are these days, car chases and special effects and remakes of stupid TV shows."

  Bryan laughed. "Come on, they're not all bad."

  They discussed movies over pie and coffee, and then Bryan drove her home.

  "I had a good time tonight," Bryan said as he walked her to her door.

  "Me, too." She looked up at him, thinking what a handsome young man he was, wishing he were older, more settled, wondering if he would kiss her. She had truly enjoyed being out with him. Unlike Dominic, Bryan had no dark secrets. He was honest and open.

  His gaze met hers. Whispering her name, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  It was a chaste kiss, warm and sweet, one with no demands, no expectations. She thought of Dominic's kisses, filled with fire and passion, then thrust the thought away.

  "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Bryan asked.

  "Okay."

  He smiled at her, revealing the dimple in his cheek. "Good night, Tracy."

  "Nite, Bry."

  She watched him walk down the steps and open the car door. He blew her a kiss before sliding behind the wheel.

  He really was a nice boy.

  She was smiling when she unlocked the door and went into the living room.

  She stopped smiling when she saw Dominic standing in front of the fireplace, his arms folded across his chest, his face like something set in stone.

  "Am I late, Dad?" She forced a teasing note into her voice, hoping he wouldn't hear the fear beneath.

  "He kissed you."

  She tilted her head to one side. "So?"

  "You are mine, Tracy. I do not want another man's hands on you. I do not want to smell his touch on your skin."

  "Then don't." She stared at him, her heart pounding. Was she mad to defy him like this? Anger radiated from him like heat from a forest fire. She didn't believe for a minute that he was actually a vampire, but he was a man, a big man, one capable of doing her great bodily harm if she pushed him too far. "I'm sorry," she said contritely. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

  "I do not drink coffee."

  "Milk? Tea? Hot chocolate?"

  "No."

  "Well, I'm sorry, but I'm all out of fresh blood."

  "Do not mock me."

  His eyes narrowed as his gaze moved to the pulse throbbing in her throat. Maybe it was only her imagin
ation, but she would have sworn she could feel his fingertips caressing her neck, feel his breath on her cheek, followed by the heat of his mouth and the sharp prick of his teeth…

  She jerked her head up and the sensation disappeared. "I think you'd better go."

  "Do not see that boy again."

  "Don't tell me what to do!" So much for being meek and lowly. "I'll see whoever I wish, whenever I wish."

  He took a step forward. "If you see him again, I will not be responsible for what happens."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "No, my best beloved one, it is a warning. If you care for the boy, you would be wise to listen."

  The look in his eyes, the soft menace in his voice, sent a shiver of unease down her spine. Even though he wasn't a vampire, it occurred to her that he would be a very dangerous man to run afoul of.

  "You still do not believe me," he murmured. "Perhaps this will convince you."

  Before she could ask what he meant, he was engulfed in a sort of silvery haze and then, between one heartbeat and the next, he was gone and in his place she saw a fine gray mist.

  She felt the blood drain from her face. This was not some hypnotic suggestion, not some magician's trick done with mirrors. It was the same silvery haze she had seen that night in the kitchen.

  The mist swirled around her ankles, drifted upward until it surrounded her like a cold gray fog.

  "Stop it!"

  The sound of her voice had barely died away when he stood before her once more.

  With a bravado she did not truly feel, she said, "Can you turn into a bat, too?"

  "You still do not believe?" he murmured, and before she knew what he was doing, he had pulled her against him.

  The next thing she knew, she was standing in a dark alley watching Dominic. Watching him lift a homeless man out of his ragged blankets and into his arms. Watching his fangs lengthen. The man struggled a moment, then went limp. Dominic bent over the man's neck and when he lifted his head, his fangs were stained with blood.

  "Now?" he asked quietly. "Now do you believe?" She stared at him in horror and then, for the third time in her life, she fainted.

  Chapter 9

  Dominic caught her in his arms and willed them back to Nightingale House. Upstairs, he sat on the edge of her bed and cradled her against his chest. Amazing, he thought. No matter her shape or form, she always fit in his embrace as if she had been made for him, as if she were the other half of his body, the missing half of his soul.

  He studied her face, the gentle arch of her brows, the dark sweep of her lashes against her cheeks, the tempting shape of her lips, the slight cleft in her chin, the slender column of her neck.

  The pulse beating there. Though he had fed earlier, the hunger stirred within him, stretching like a big cat awaking from sleep, its claws raking his insides.

  He took a deep breath and his nostrils filled with her scent—perfume and shampoo and toothpaste. He could detect the boy's touch on her skin. And, over all, the tantalizing smell of her blood, rich and red, flowing through her veins.

  His fangs lengthened.

  His arms tightened around her as he lowered his head.

  Just one taste. Surely, after so many centuries, he deserved just one taste.

  He ran his tongue over the skin below her ear, growled low in his throat as he jerked his head up. He had vowed he would never take her by force, never take her unawares. He swore softly. Whether he took a single sip of her blood or brought her into his world, it had to be her decision, her choice.

  Rising, he pulled back the covers and laid her down on the mattress. After drawing the blankets up over her, he smoothed a lock of hair from her brow, then bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.

  Murmuring, "Sweet dreams, my best beloved one," he vanished from the room.

  She woke to the ringing of the phone beside the bed. Still groggy, she grabbed the receiver to make the ringing stop. "Hello?"

  "Hi, Tracy, it's Bryan. Did I wake you?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Oh, sorry. I thought you'd be up by now. I was wondering if you'd be coming down to the beach today?"

  She blinked the sleep from her eyes and tried to focus on the clock. Noon! She never slept this long.

  She was about to tell him she would meet him there in an hour when Dominic's warning rippled through her mind. If you see him again, I will not be responsible for what happens. She wasn't sure if Dominic would actually carry out his threat, but she wasn't willing to find out.

  "Tracy?"

  "I don't think so. I've got some work to do."

  "All right," he said, the disappointment evident in his tone, "maybe some other time."

  "Have a good day, Bryan."

  "Yeah, thanks—you, too."

  Feeling like she'd just ripped the wings off of a baby bird, Tracy hung up the receiver.

  Feeling numb, she stared up at the ceiling. Dominic was a vampire. She couldn't deny it any longer, not after what she had seen last night.

  There was only one thing to do, and now was the time to do it. Scrambling out of bed, she took a quick shower. After dressing in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she threw some clothes in a suitcase, packed up her toiletries, then gathered up her paints, an easel, and several blank canvases. It took several trips to carry everything down to her car. Going back to the house, she filled an ice chest with ice, then loaded it with the perishables from the fridge. She dropped a loaf of bread, a box of crackers, a box of cereal, some canned goods and a couple of candy bars into a grocery sack, then carried the ice chest and the sack out to the car, as well.

  She walked through the house one last time. Seeing her laptop, she decided to take it along. After making sure everything was turned off, she locked the place up and drove away. Her first instinct was to go home to her folks, but after a moment's thought, she knew she couldn't go there, couldn't take a chance that Dominic would follow her. She couldn't put the lives of her parents at risk. So, she just drove away, heading north. She wasn't sure where she was going, just some place far, far away, some place where he would never find her.

  By late afternoon, she had left her house, the ocean, and, hopefully, Dominic, far behind.

  At dusk, she pulled into a restaurant for dinner, then found a nearby motel where she could spend the night.

  Inside, she locked the door behind her, then dropped her suitcase on one of the twin beds. There was something about motel rooms that she found depressing. This one was no different from most: twin beds covered with dark green spreads, drapes heavily lined for those who wanted to sleep during the day, a TV set bolted to the wall, an ugly, nondescript carpet on the floor.

  She switched on the TV, flipped through the channels until she found an old Tom Hanks movie, and turned the sound down low. The Money Pit had always been one of her favorites and she sat down on the edge of the bed and lost herself in the antics of Hanks and Shelley Long. She even found herself laughing out loud once or twice.

  When the movie was over, she went into the bathroom and turned on the tap in the bathtub. She felt a shiver of unease when she looked out the bathroom window and saw that it was dark out. Dominic would be stirring now. How long until he discovered she wasn't home? How long before he realized she wasn't coming back?

  She put her hair into a ponytail, tossed her clothes on the floor, and stepped into the tub. Lying back, with her eyes closed, she let her mind drift.

  She tried to blink back her tears as she smoothed the collar of her son's uniform. He was so young, barely sixteen.

  He smiled at her and for a moment it wasn't her grown son looking at her, but the little boy he had once been. "How do I look, Ma?"

  "Mighty handsome." She stroked his cheek. "Mighty handsome. Promise me you'll be careful."

  "Ma…"

  "Promise me, Jacob. Indulge your poor old mother."

  "I'll be careful, Ma, don't worry. We'll whip those Yanks in a week, you'll see.""

  She could hear the eagerness in his voice, see i
t in his eyes. "I've gotta go, Ma. Tom's waiting."

  Tom Myles was Jacob's best friend. They had grown up together, played together. It was only fitting that they would go off to war together.

  She followed him out onto the verandah, blinked back her tears as he mounted his grandfather's horse.

  "Make us proud, son," his grandfather said, handing Jacob the reins.

  "I will, Gramps."

  Charles shook hands with his grandson and with Tom, then climbed the steps to stand beside her, one arm draped across her shoulders.

  Forcing a smile, she waved to her son, unable to shake the awful foreboding that she would never see him again this side of heaven.

  They stood there until the boys were out of sight, then Charles went inside, leaving her to stand there alone, her heart breaking.

  Dominic came to her that night. Knowing that there were no words that would comfort her, he took her into his arms and held her close, one hand stroking her hair. The tears came then, flooding her eyes, soaking his ruffled shirt front. She cried until she felt hollow inside, until there were no tears left.

  "Libby, come away with me," he said. "We can go north. You'll be safe there, with me."

  She shook her head. "I can't. I have to be here when…" She swallowed hard. "I have to be here when Jacob comes home."

  He didn't argue; instead, he took her by the hand and they walked down the tree-lined path that circled the main house. The air was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and magnolias. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend that nothing had changed, that there was no war.

  When they were out of sight of the house, Dominic drew her into his embrace again, not as a friend this time, but as the man who loved her. To her shame, she went into his arms willingly. He was her only comfort, the only security in a world gone mad, and she clung to him with mindless desperation while he held her and stroked her. It was wrong, so wrong. Her husband, Warren, had been dead less than two years and now her son had gone to war. But, right or wrong, she needed Dominic, needed his strength.

  She rested her cheek against his chest, remembering the night they had met three years ago. She had been at a cotillion with her husband when she looked up and saw a tall, dark stranger with piercing gray eyes watching her. She had stared at him, bemused by the feeling that she had met him before—though of course that was impossible. She would never have forgotten a man like that. He lifted one dark brow under her frank regard, then sketched a bow in her direction.