Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 27

She looked down, listening for Marcello and knowing she would most likely not hear him if he were to come. Taking a step, she began to run toward the alleyway's entrance.

"Beautiful night for a walk, is it not?"

Tatiana stiffened. Her eyes glanced up just in time to see a strong chest in her line of vision. She lifted her hands, crashing into it. She jumped back. Her eye rounded in horror.

"Marcello," she whispered, seeing his familiar face. She shivered. There was something different about him. His face was the same, though she did not readily recognize the expression on it. He seemed to be ... pleasant. She frowned, distrusting the look instantly.

"Bella donna," Marcello mused in a peculiar way she'd never noticed before. His dark eyes roamed her face. Tatiana shivered.

He examined her intimately, studying her every curve, inspecting her. His dark gaze lingered on her beasts until she had the insane urge to slap him. His lips twitched up as she thought it and she knew he'd detected the urge.

"What new torment have you planned for me now, my lord?" she spat. Her jade eyes narrowed in displeasure. Her hands came to her hips.

"Exquisite," he murmured. "So much pa.s.sion."

"Not for you," she spat. In truth, Tatiana was terrified. She did not like this side of him. She liked him brooding and dark, not smiling and pleasant. This version was much more dangerous.

Marcello threw back his head and laughed. His words dripped with sarcasm and disgust, as he exclaimed, "So much fire!"

Tatiana stiffened. He began to pace around her, still studying her, looking her over like a prize mare.

"Would you like to see my teeth?" she asked sharply, when he had come full circle. "Or perhaps I can lift a hoof off the ground for you."

To her amazement, he laughed again, a wild sound and seemed to find amus.e.m.e.nt in her blatant distaste for him. Tatiana pulled back. Her heart began to beat slightly faster, edged with fear. Had she pushed him too far by trying to escape, by trying to break her words of loyalty to him?

In a movement so swift, he darted forward, sweeping her into his embrace. She shivered, opening her mouth to speak. A tingling went up her spine, not pleasant, but not bad either. She looked up at him, still thinking how strange he appeared.

"Ah,bella donna ," he whispered. His mouth brushed close, but did not claim hers. His lips pushed out softly and his eyes glimmered with an eerie green light, as he hushed, "Shhh."

Tatiana moaned, feeling a lethargic spell cast over her limbs. Instantly, she fell asleep.

Chapter Twelve.

Somehow, Tatiana knew that she'd slept through the whole of a day before she ever opened her eyes. Yawning, she stretched. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Tatiana yawned again, opening one eye, as the loud sound escaped her throat. Instantly, she shot up in bed, clutching wool sheets to her chest. That is what had been off--the bed. It wasn't soft or covered in silk. She wasn't in the catacombs. The room was small, looking like inside of a tenement or boarding house. The wooden walls were rough planks. The fireplace was dusty and crumbling and barren. On the floor was a coffin. She frowned to see it.

As she moved her head, her hair tickled her spine, causing her to shiver. She froze. She was naked.

"Oh, G.o.d," she whispered. She closed her eyes tightly. "I am having another vision. When I open my eyes, it will all be gone."

A low chuckle was her answer. A cool hand worked its way over her spine. She turned, wondering how she'd missed Marcello sitting behind her. She tried to edge away from him. Perhaps his power over her was wavering. She did not feel the same depth of attraction to him she had before. Perhaps seeing him with the prost.i.tute had somehow freed her from him. He was still attractive, still handsome. Just looking at his body made her excited on a baser level, but the intensity was gone.

Marcello wore only a tight pair of black breeches. His chest was naked--pale and strong. His arm flexed with agility, feeling his cool fingers along her back, making her skin tingle. His eyes flashed with his dark power. His fingers curled along her side, barely touching the edge of her breast before stroking down over her hip.

"Why are we here?" she asked, weak.

"Ah, this," Marcello mused quietly, looking around with that unfamiliar expression of amus.e.m.e.nt. His deep voice was strangely lighthearted. "I am afraid there wasn't much time to procure better arrangements last night. This place was an unfortunate necessity."

"Why didn't you just go back to the catacombs?" she asked, frowning.

"I have my reasons," was all he said. His finger lightly moved to touch her bare shoulder, trailing over her arm. "You are so warm, so soft."

She stiffened, closing her eyes tight. His voice dripped with sugary meaning. "Where are my clothes, my lord?"

"I took them off. I wanted to see you, touch you. I must say, you are very beautiful,bella donna ." His voice was completely without remorse.

"You didn't ... you and I ... we didn't?" she gulped. She again tried to jerk her arm from his touch, pulling shyly from him. He merely followed her with his hand, continuing over her back where he could reach.

"Does it matter? If you can't remember it, it is all the same to you, is it not?"

Tatiana knew he was right. He'd seen her before, bathed her, touched and kissed her. One more night wouldn't matter. It was just as well she didn't recall it. She had enough memories to fight.

"I saw you," she whispered. "I saw the human you."

Marcello stiffened. His fingers stopped.

"You were in a garden, in a house in the mountains. There was this party and you were talking with a group of friends," she said. "You had on this cream colored waistcoat and a dark blue jacket and a brown wig--at least I think it was a wig because everyone wore them. You couldn't see me, but for a moment I think you might have felt me. Then I turned and I saw you again, only you were wearing a red jacket."

"Why do you tell me this?" Marcello asked, continuing his fascinated exploration of her back. He moved to test her response to his lightly sc.r.a.ping nails. She shivered.

"Because I want to know what it means. I want to know why I have these visions. I want to make them stop," she whispered.

She still gripped the sheets to her chest. "Please, do you remember it? Do you remember anything about that day I describe?"

Marcello shrugged. "It could've been one day out of many or many days made into one. How am I to know?"

"I want them to stop," she whispered. Tears came to her eyes, stabbing her in the chest with the agony of what she confessed.

"I don't want to see anymore. Please, find another witch. This time I will gladly bind my powers. Please, just find a witch. I don't want to see anymore. I don't want to feel them anymore. I saw ... Alice ... she was dead ... and...."

Tatiana couldn't finish. She began crying, sobbing wretched tears. She flung her body forward into Marcello's arms. She didn't feel their strong connection and it killed her to lose it. She never realized how much she relied on the thin hope of her feelings for him. If she lost them too, no matter how illusory her feelings were, she'd be completely alone. She would have no one left. She felt his naked chest pressed to hers, divided by only the sheet. Remembering the pleasure he'd given her, she kissed him.

Marcello started in surprise as her arms wound across his neck. But then, a low chuckle of satisfaction left his lips and he began kissing her back in a way he'd never done before. She shivered, pulling away, tasting her lips as she studied him.

"There is something different about you," she whispered in confusion.

"I am what I am," Marcello answered. His eyes were dark, narrowing in an unfamiliar way. Was she beginning to see him clearly? Was some spell she lingered under coming to an end?

Marcello grabbed her to him once more, flinging her down on her back as he began to roughly kiss her mouth, devouring her, perhaps even punishing her. His fingers ripped the sheet from her chest as his lips moved to her neck. He began ma.s.saging her large b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his palm, circling the nipples in bruising strokes until they were budded and hard.

Tatiana gasped for breath. He was smothering her. Usually Marcello had a bit of gentleness to his touches, even in his roughness, but now he was just taking what he wanted--emotionlessly and cold, driven only by the physical need for release.

She began to strike his shoulders. His kisses became rougher, too forceful. She felt his mouth opening to bite. She started to scream, but she never had a chance.

Suddenly, a shadow came across her face. She blinked, as if dreaming. Her hands stopped moving as she stared. Teeth pierced her flesh and she jolted to feel a mouth sucking against her neck.

"Marcello?" she whispered, stunned.

Above her, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes spouting fire, was Marcello. Or was it? She screamed, loud and long, hitting the man who bit into her. Her nails lashed out at his naked back like claws, scratching his skin to bleeding. The wounds healed instantly, leaving the vampire unharmed.

The vampire at her neck pulled back, smiling at her. He licked his lips, crimson with her blood. He, too, looked like Marcello.

Tatiana screamed again. She grabbed the sheet, scurrying away from them. She felt a trail of blood running over her neck and didn't care.