Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 5

"No, Tatiana, it's all right," Thomas soothed. He looked around before moving as if he would touch her arm. "My mother always said your family was blessed with gifts. She said yourmother was also a natural witch. It's all right, truly, don't cry.

Please, don't cry."

"She wasn't a witch, Thomas, my mother was touched," Tatiana whispered. A strangeness flowed in her veins and she wasn't sure the presence inside her mind was gone. She felt as if he lingered, listening to her, waiting to see if and how she would betray him. "She used to say she saw visions of what was going to happen. She claimed a maid was going to steal silver or someone was going to drop her favorite vase. So she fired the maid and wrapped the vase in pillows. She made me promise not to say anything, but I always knew she wasn't right in the head. And I must be touched, too. That is why I have these dreams."

"No," Thomas denied. "You are very sane. I just think you need to get out of this place. Your dreams are trying to warn you to run. They are telling you that all is not right with the Count. What sort of gentleman would ask for your hand and then take his leave of you without...? It's not right. You mustn't wait for him. Please, Tatiana, say you'll still marry me. We'll run away tonight. I'll take you far away from here! I promise he'll never find you. I'll keep you safe. I'll protect you with my life."

He sounded so sure of his plan, so sure that he wanted her. Tatiana had no such sureties. Slowly, she nodded. She couldn't speak. Thomas grinned. He looked so happy.

"Kiss me," she whispered, fighting the demon's hold inside of her. She could feel the Count trying to get in, trying to pull her back into the dream world he kept her locked inside. She fought him, stiffening her resolve, trying to be free of him.

Thomas couldn't resist. He surged forward, his lips parted to obey her command. He'd dreamt of kissing her, holding her for so long. To hear her say the words was like fire to his blood.

Tatiana felt his hands on her arms, pulling her into his chest. There was no rush of feeling in his touch, not like in the hands of her dreams. But she did feel something, a gentle kindness, a comfort to which she wasn't opposed. She knew she could easily let Thomas touch her, wouldn't mind his kisses or his bed. A part of her even began to long for the safety of it, of him.

'Bella!'The voice came, furious, like a demon emerging from the depths of h.e.l.l.

Thomas' eyes only saw her face. He did not look around, didn't care if any saw. He wanted this more than anything. He wanted her. Tatiana could see it in him. She could detect his emotion radiating in each subtle gesture of his jerking body, making her feel. She sensed his sincerity, his good heart. His lips pressed forward, warm, tender. Her mouth parted, ready to accept him.

The moment his mouth brushed along hers a pain so intense shot through her system. She gasped, wheezing for breath. She thought his touch would kill the beast inside her, but it only infuriated it. She trembled, arching stiffly back from Thomas' lips without ever knowing the full press of his kiss. She heard screaming in her head, coming from inside. It was her voice calling out in pain. She couldn't tell if the sound escaped her lips, or only echoed in her mind, but it wouldn't stop.

'Appartenete a me, bella mia!'the demonic voice snarled. The tone wasn't tender like in her dreams. It was hard, monstrous, possessive and so very angry with her. The words racked her through her core, tightening coldly on her throat until she nearly swooned for lack of air. 'You belong to me! You are mine! You will never escape me!'

She stopped screaming, realizing that she hadn't moved her lips. The fight had been inside her. Outside, she'd stayed perfectly still. The shaking in her body stopped as the cloud was yet again over her mind. She felt the numbness invading her senses once more. She did not have the strength to stop it.

Gasping in surprise, she peered at Thomas. He no longer held her. He was on his back, lying on the ground, panting for breath as if she'd struck him.

"Thomas?" she breathed, frightened. His eyes looked up at her in pity, but he did not go to her again. He struggled to stand, his legs weak. She pulled back so he couldn't reach for her again. He didn't try. "What happened? What did I do to you?"

"Tonight," Thomas returned, brushing himself off. His eyes softened as they took in her face. Whispering, as if they could be overheard in the abandoned side lawn, he said, "Tonight I will come for you. I'll get you out of here, Tatiana, I promise."

Tatiana nodded, not understanding what was happening to her. All she knew is that she wanted the voice inside her to stop.

She watched Thomas' back as he slowly walked away from her. He didn't chance to look at her as he rounded the side of the house. Tatiana swallowed, wondering in amazement how he could still want her, that he could've ever wanted her at all.

Almost ashamedly, she recalled the night all the strangeness started. One of her last memories before drawing a blank was Thomas handing her down from the carriage. His exact words were lost on her, but she remembered him speaking kindly to her. In return, she'd contemplated turning her lifelong friend out on his ear. She shook her head. What a fool she'd been, so young and stupid. She was still young, but it was amazing what two years of living in a nightmare could do to a person.

Tatiana lifted a st.u.r.dy shawl and tossed it around her bare shoulders. Her gown was of the richest silk, a fine but simple lavender with tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of Honiton lace, looped with silk flowers. Her hair was adorned with a single matching silk flower, coiffured high and fashionable. The dress was perhaps one of her finest and not very suited for traveling. She didn't care.

Ignoring the wave of guilt that tried to overwhelm her each time she thought of marrying Thomas, Tatiana knotted the shawl firmly over her shoulders before reaching to pull on her long gloves. If Thomas was going to marry her, she would endeavor to look her best for him. He would make her a fine husband. He was a hard worker, a gentle soul, a very decent man. As far as attraction, she'd felt some for him. He was handsome, quiet, yet charming. With him, she would have a life with laughter and contentment.

Looking around her beautiful bedroom, dark now that she'd put out the fireplace and turned off the gas lamps, she knew that her days of luxury were more than likely over. She wondered if her father would forgive her the embarra.s.sment she would cause by running off with a servant. He hardly spoke to her anymore, though she caught him looking warily at her from time to time as if afraid.

Crossing over to the curtains, she drew them back. It was evening, the sun having set about a half of an hour past. Pressing her face onto the pane of gla.s.s, Tatiana let it cool her heated forehead. She saw the shadowed outline of the forest reach into the distance from her second story room. She never went to the forest anymore, never knowing why her feet didn't carry her there to explore as they had when she was younger. She was going to miss Eastwich Manor, but she knew it was time to leave.

Suddenly, the chill from the window shot down the side of her face, trailing over her back. She froze, tense and waiting. She didn't have to wait long.

'Bella mia,'the voice said, almost with a sulk. She tried not to listen to it, tried to think of a song to block it out of her mind.

Nothing came. 'Non avete pensato per fuoriuscirli?'

Tatiana pressed her lips tightly together. She was really beginning to hate that accursed language. Strangely, though, she always seemed to know what he said to her without really understanding the words completely.

"Then I will speak in English for you. You didn't think to escape me, did you?" The low words were thick with an Italian accent, but very real, more real than the phrases in her head had been. Tatiana took a sharp breath, holding it. Her fingers twisted up into the curtains, clinging fiercely to them as if they could protect her. She willed him to go away.

She waited, feeling him behind her, unable to see him just like in her dreams. Her body shook. Tears entered her eyes as she panted raggedly against the window pane. Her hot, nervous breath hit against the gla.s.s, fogging it. She couldn't hear him move, but somehow knew that he drew closer, reaching out to touch her.

Time seemed to suspend itself into an eternity of antic.i.p.ation, longing for that first bit of contact, dreading it even more. Her skin pulled. Her nerve endings tingled as if they recognized the one who approached. She felt a peculiar power flowing in her blood, just like earlier when Thomas said her eye glimmered, just like years ago when Henry claimed the same. She hadn't expected the Count to come to her, but she wasn't surprised.

"You don't speak?" the Count murmured. Lips whispered close to her ear. Cold breath hit her skin, causing her to tremble as goose b.u.mps rose up on her flesh.

Tatiana stiffened, gripping the curtains tighter. It was as she thought. The Count had drawn close. Her eyes darted over the side lawn, searching desperately for Thomas, praying he would see her in the window and come save her. She couldn't move to save herself. She was petrified.

"That boy can't protect you,bella mia ," the Count whispered, next to her other ear, causing her to jerk in surprise. She felt a light brush against the back of her ear and wasn't sure if it was his lips or his nose that skimmed by her. The slight touch sent shockwaves rippling throughout her body.

Tatiana had not felt him move. Her eyes lifted, traveling slowly up the gla.s.s to see if she could catch his refection behind her.

She saw nothing, not even her own face. She was too afraid to turn and look. After so long, she wasn't sure she wanted to see the demonic man from her nightmares.

"You thought to run out on me," the Count continued, scolding, clicking his tongue as if she were a naughty child. She could tell he was angry with her, though his soft voice did not let on.

Tatiana knew there was no point in denying the fact. Her voice when she answered was barely audible. "H--how could you know that?"

The Count heard her words easily, as was evident by his answer. It was a low, sardonic laugh that mocked her fear of him. She wondered why he didn't touch her. Nevertheless, she was trapped to the window, looking out at the moonlit gardens below.

She knew that he would stop her if she tried to dart past him.

"I love Thomas," she said quietly. "I want to marry him. Please, just leave me be. I don't know what you said to my father to make him agree to our--"

"You don't love the boy," the Count broke in, his cryptic words rolling out harsh. Her declaration of love grated against his very nature. "You pity him the loss of his sister."

Tatiana knew his words were true. She didn't love Thomas as a woman loves a man, but as a friend loves another friend. She was drawn to him, his pain, his good heart. That was enough for her.

"I'll be happy with him," Tatiana defended.

"Never mention him to me again,bella mia ," the Count stated, dismissing her words with his order. "Now, come, it is time for us to go."

"I don't want to go with you, I won't," Tatiana declared. Her fists grabbed onto the curtains with a renewed strength.

The Count's chuckle was deadly.

"I'm not leaving with you," she screamed, frightened by him. She closed her eyes tight, trying to dredge up every bit of her courage. "I'm staying with Thomas!"

A hard, loud growl echoed in the bedchamber. Tatiana felt a cold hand gripping painfully into her shoulder. Her body sparked with life at the touch. He jerked her back with that one hand and sent her flying across the room. The curtains ripped noisily from the wall and she was forced to let them go. She screamed in surprise as she flew through the air. With a hard bounce that left her breathless and dazed, she landed with her back on the bed.

She pushed up on her elbows, her chest heaving for air. Her eyes automatically searched for him in the darkness. It didn't take long for her to find the tall figure with broad shoulders outlined by blue-white moonlight. She couldn't see his face, though a memory of it pulled at her. His hair was unfashionably long, waving in what appeared to be light brown strands about his shoulders and back.

Her shoulder stung where he'd touched her. Her body felt alive with the power of his nearness. She hated the feelings he stirred so wickedly in her chest. She felt him in her mind, probing her, digging into her with his control. She concentrated on throwing him out of her. Her eyes began to shine, glimmering as she stared hatefully at the devil before her.

Suddenly, the sensations of his probing mind stopped. He seemed to pull back, though he didn't move. She felt him grinning at her.

"Ah, so you have finally balanced your power," he stated to her. The idea seemed to please him greatly. Slowly, as if he glided rather than walked, he approached the bed. She stiffened as he sat next to her. Her eyes hungrily devoured the shadows for a hint of his features. "I tasted that you were close."

At his enigmatic words, she screamed. Pushing past him, her hand hit hard upon a chest formed as if from steel. With one snap of his arm, he could've subdued her, but he only moved to follow as she rushed from the bedroom.