Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 41

With a growl, Leandro pulled his wrist away from her to cradle it in his arms. The gash slowly healed. He stepped back, watching Tatiana. At first, she merely laid on the rug, gaping at him, hands on her chest as she gasped for breath.

A pain shot through Tatiana's body and she screamed in agony. The intensity of it took her by surprise. Her limbs shook, convulsing violent and strong. The door burst open and her eyes flew to it. Marcello stood before her, looking as he did in Paris--so handsome, just as she remembered him. Her eyes took him in, drinking as heavily of the sight of him as her lips had of Leandro's blood.

She saw his eyes round in confusion, taking in her quivering body and bloodied neck before moving to study Leandro. Leandro bowed to him, turned his back, and walked to the narrow slit of a window.

Marcello rushed forward to kneel by Tatiana. His pale face filled with horror as he looked at her. She screamed again. He grabbed her hand and began to murmur soothing sounds to her, incoherent thoughts of comfort and helplessness. Then, turning to glare at his brother, he demanded in their native tongue, "What did you do, Leandro?"

"She is dying," Leandro stated in kind, though his words were a contrasting calm. "Don't you remember the look of death, my brother? Has it been so long that you could've forgotten it? Now we are even."

"You call this even?" Marcello growled. Tatiana's screams began to lessen as her organs died one by one until only her heart was left beating. Her lungs stopped filling with breath. "You call this just?"

"I will let you have your moment with her. Use it well. For when she turns completely, she'll belong only to me. I am her master and I will not relinquish the control of my benighted child. Please, feel free to use my coffin tonight. I am sure she would prefer to share it with you."

Marcello watched helplessly as Leandro left them alone. His stricken gaze turned down to Tatiana. He saw her dress, now stained with her blood. An eerie remembrance came over him of another time, another life, another death. The crimes of his past were visited upon him in this act. Finally, he was punished. Only Tatiana wouldn't live in his memory. She would live in his dark world. It didn't matter. Memory or benighted child to Leandro--either way she may very well be lost to him. Leandro gave her the demon they all carried. How much of her would be left once it was done?

"Marcello," Tatiana's pale lips whispered. She felt him on her hand, holding her. She felt his pain over what was happening to her. Suddenly, a vision flashed and Marcello's face dimmed. She saw the past.

A long line of her ancestors gathered beneath the stars. A stone altar was before them, drenched with the blood of an immortal stretched and writhing upon it. She saw a carving of a bird on the base of the pedestal. She felt her ancestors inside her and was connected to her past once more.

Long, reddish brown hair fell over the vampiress' pale, beautiful features as she slowly turned to look at Tatiana. The immortal's lips parted, screaming at the witches in an ancient language, cursing their bloodline.

The power surged up around Tatiana, strong. But it drained quickly and she knew that this was the moment theAddien powers went dormant. She felt cold, as she watched the vampiress slowly turning to ash before them. Her ancestors lay on the ground, shivering, crying out in pain and loss. She felt it too, buried deep within her blood's memory.

Tatiana gasped, convulsing again as she tried to break free. But the vision wasn't finished with her yet. No longer was she in the past, but the future--a far distant future with tall structures and strange moving lights. It was daytime--bright and sunny.

Her head spun and she smelled a strange smoke that choked her lungs.

Giant photographs, strange in their lifelike colors, lined a long paved road with painted lines. The women grinned provocatively, as they smiled down from above, indecently clad in less than a corset and chemise. Long meaningless phases were painted underneath the portraits. The streets were filled with inexplicably dressed humans, marching between the tall buildings and the moving street. Suddenly, someone stopped walking and looked right at her.

Tatiana's heart stopped. It was the vampiress. She was very much alive and in daylight. But, how? Tatiana felt herself trying to walk after her, but the woman began to run. When Tatiana would give chase, the vision disappeared and she was left staring at Marcello's concerned eyes.

"It is only a vision," Marcello soothed weakly. His fingers hovered helplessly over her, as if afraid to touch her. "They happen to us all when we are reborn. Try to remember it,bella mia ."

Tatiana's lips opened, but no words came out. Her body shot forward as she vomited on the fur rug. It wasn't much as she hadn't eaten that night. Marcello let her stomach empty of the last of her human food before pulling her into his arms.

Her limbs were too weak to cling to him so she just let him hold her, as she hung limp like a rag doll.

"It is almost over," he crooned, pulling pins from her hair. The dark waves spilled over her shoulders once more and he removed the padding that held it high. "Almost over."

Tatiana didn't move, merely stared insensibly over his shoulder. Her neck was healing itself, but she didn't feel it, didn't feel anything but the numbing after effects of a hard death.

Marcello lifted her skirts, pulling at the wooden petticoat support until it came free. She didn't need to breathe anymore, so he left the corset. Then, lifting her weak body in his arms and laid her down in Leandro's coffin. She was limp and did not protest him, though her dazed green eyes followed his every movement.

Going to the fur rug, he rolled it up and set it outside the bedroom door. Without a word, for he couldn't speak, he crawled in beside her and pulled her into his arms. Her eyes closed as he bid her gently to find her rest. It was early yet in the night, but he knew he wouldn't be leaving her alone--not like this, not when she needed him.

Kissing her forehead, he whispered, "I am sorry,bella mia , so very sorry."

It was Marcello's strong arms that held her. Tatiana had missed him so much and now he had her close to him. It didn't matter that her body lay dying in his arms or that she'd changed. She didn't care. He was back and he was with her. It was all that mattered.

Tatiana felt whole again. Her body was calm, her power settled. She never realized how lost she felt when he wasn't near. Her life had carried the same lethargy, which had settled over her those two years parted from him at Eastwich. She realized it now. Without him she was numb. Trying to open her eyes, she felt a strange weariness in her limbs.

I am dead, she thought, as she saw Marcello's eyes clearly in the dark tomb of the coffin. Every detail was as clear as day and she drank it in.

"Yes,bella mia ," he whispered.

I've missed you' Tatiana blinked, unable to move her frozen lips.

Marcello's answering look was sad. "Forgive me."

There is nothing to forgive. This was my fate. I know that now. This was the fate of my line. The evil will return and I must be there to fight it. She'll walk in daylight.

"You saw this?" His nose edged closer to hers. Aside from his whispered voice the coffin was silent. Her breath no longer stirred between them.

Yes, I saw it. I was cursed before I even met you--cursed by my own blood, cursed by an ancient spell to become what I am now. But, it is I who am sorry, Marcello. I never knew you could feel. I didn't understand the helplessness you must have felt in that moment of death and undeath. You truly have no choice. The body wishes to live, to drink of the demon. It doesn't wait for permission.As she thought it, Tatiana felt another voice scratching to get in her mind. She pushed it away. She was with Marcello. All she wanted to see was his face. All she wanted was to feel his body, hear only his voice.Can you forgive me for judging you?

"There is nothing to forgive," he whispered. His hand roamed over her hip. He wanted her so badly, had missed her so much.

How did you find me here?

"Alice came to me. She led me to the lycan den where you were held captive," he said. "I tried to come for you, but there were too many. They locked me away in a prison. Domin told me Leandro had you. I knew he would come here. He always comes here."

And yet, you don't.

"No, until now, I have not." Marcello touched her paling cheek. Her body was cold but did not shiver. "I am sorry I couldn't save you from this, from Broderick or Leandro, from Domin. What did they do to you?"

You couldn't have saved me. It was my fate to go and so I went. If not Broderick and Leandro, I would've gone another way.

This life is my curse, not your doing. My destiny was sealed long before my birth, long still before your death. Domin helped me. He gave me his blood and balanced me and now I am connected to him.

Tatiana's wide green eyes studied him. She tried to smile, but failed.

"A vampire connected to a lycan?" Marcello's lids dipped over his gaze in thought.

Tatiana could detect subtle hints of an expression, little changes unknown to her human eyes, but now unmistakable. He was hurt, sad, worried.What is it?

"The vampires and the lycans merely tolerate each other, but they are most generally not friends. I wouldn't say what you are to anyone, Tatiana. It could put you in danger. Some of the old will not take kindly to you being connected to the lycan. They remember the old wars and bear no favor with the wolfen kind."

Lycan. Vampire. Witch.The sardonic laughter was in her thoughts--bitter and cold.Which one of us is the demon now?

"You are no demon,bella mia . Don't think it," he whispered.

Tatiana tried to nod her head, hearing the desperation in his voice. She didn't know what she was anymore--only that she was trapped in a place between life and death, a place that she would remain for an eternity. Her eyes drifted closed and soon she welcomed the dreamless black sleep of a corpse.

Chapter Seventeen.

Tatiana flinched. Something bit at her lip and the flavor of blood entered her mouth before she was even fully awake. With a light moan of pleasure, she stirred, swallowing the blood. One hand hit upon the hard edge of a coffin, the other found the steel-like muscles of a chest. Almost instantly, she gasped.

"Marcello?" she breathed. She licked her lips, feeling the poke of her fangs. She'd bitten her own lip. Her blood had a strange, but gratifying taste to it and she again swallowed. Instantly, her body cried out for more. "Are you really here?"

Tatiana's fingers crept up his st.u.r.dy chest. Her eyes pierced through the darkness and she could see every detail of him.