Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 8

Marcello felt Tatiana slipping in and out of consciousness. He adjusted her weight in his arms, maneuvering easily with his vampiric strength as if he carried air. He'd stayed in this mausoleum once before and knew it would accommodate them easily. Inside, spider webs hung in the corners. A large stone slab sat over a vault. With a push, Marcello thrust the stone aside.

Within the vault was a large mauve coffin, plush with fine silk padding.

Gently, he laid her within the coffin's fold, before coming above her. For a moment, he paused, letting his legs thread within hers. He was still eager to claim her in the most physical of ways. With a quick flip of his body, he turned them so she was facing his chest. Her leg rested intimately over his hip and he smiled slightly. He adjusted her arm about his waist and the other beside her cheek on the pillow. Then, reaching for the lid, he closed them within the coffin and shut his eyes to sleep.

Tatiana's body jerked weakly, bouncing repeatedly in heavy thuds. Her limbs felt numb, cramped. With a gasp, her eyes flew open and she sat straight up. The jostling didn't stop. Blinking through the darkness, she realized she was again in the carriage and it was night. Had she dreamt about being taken into a graveyard?

"Bunasera, bella mia."

Tatiana flinched at the calm voice, feeling peckish and tired. Her body ached as if she'd slept for weeks and eaten for none of them. Then, remembering Marcello's vicious bite that had almost killed her, she reached for her neck. The skin was smooth, but the memory of what he did came back full force. Feeling a chill behind her back, she realized he'd laid her head on his lap to sleep.

"You ... insufferable demon," she hollowed, outraged and unable to think of anything better. Turning on him, she lashed out, extending her fingernails like claws. She went for his face in the darkness, or at least where his face should've been. Her hands. .h.i.t the empty cushions. She couldn't see in the dark, but she could hear his mockingly obscure chuckle of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Tatiana was too angry to stop. She screeched loudly, jumping to catch him on the opposite seat. As she landed, she again hit an empty seat with a thud.

"Hold still, you coward," she hissed. "So help me, when I get my hands on you, I'll--"

"What? Kill me?" Marcello laughed, thoroughly enjoying her anger. She was spirited and he found he liked it very much. His words held much humor, as he said in the most irritatingly logical tone she'd ever heard, "Il mio amante, I am already dead."

"I'm not your lover," Tatiana growled. She pounced again and this time her hands. .h.i.t the black silk of his shirt. She really hadn't expected to catch him and hesitated when she did. To her amazement, she realized he wore no waistcoat or jacket. The folds of his muscles were revealed easily beneath the soft glide of material and she found her fingers exploring the feel of his hard body. Marcello wasted no time as he grasped her hips and pulled her to straddle his lap.

"Is that a complaint,bella ?" Marcello murmured, leaning forward to nuzzle her throat. The sound of his rumbling voice sent chills racking through her body, or perhaps it was the way his lips instantly found the base of her throat and began kissing.

She gasped to feel his tongue licking a wicked trail over her jaw to her mouth. Without thought, she slapped him, hard. He merely laughed and she could feel his body responding favorably to her rough handling. She gasped, feeling him harden beneath her.

Realizing she sat indecently across his thighs, Tatiana tried to push away. His grip only tightened on her hips and he refused to let go. His fingers slid around to press into the soft cheeks of her backside.

Tatiana liked what he was doing and it terrified her. Her body stirred to him, gravitating itself naturally closer. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his hard length. She hated him, despised him, yet wanted him desperately.

Closing her eyes, Tatiana put herself far away from the carriage into a sunlit field. She could feel the warmth of early summer soaking into her limbs. It was so different than the cold flesh of the vampire who held her trapped. Wildflowers dotted the landscape in magnificent yellows and blues, hidden beneath the rolling gra.s.ses of the plain. Everything was bright and beautiful.

The air was fresh, fragrant, pleasing. She held herself very still in the field and felt the wind stir her gown and whip her hair over her shoulders. She felt calm, connected to everything around her. It was as if she could feel the earth moving, the flowers growing, life building naturally all around her.

Tatiana smiled. The daydream was so real, so vivid. A cloud came from the sun, making her blink at the full cast of light on her features. A strand of blonde hair flew before her face, flowing long over her hips. With a start, she realized it was hers. She turned her head down. Her toes were bare and she wore a gown from centuries past. The dark blue tunic fitted tightly to her frame, pressing against her limbs.

Tatiana's breathing deepened. The feeling of connection was severed from the world around her. The ground began to shake with the steady beat of horses. She looked into the distance to see knights astride large, snorting destriers. They saw her and charged. Their swords rose high into the air. Tatiana screamed and ran from them. Her bare feet hit against the ground. The field was so long, stretching for what seemed like miles. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Esprit Malin!"one of the knights cried, pointing viciously at her with the tip of his sword. She knew they called her 'evil one'.

The horses seemed to charge faster at the man's words.

Tatiana couldn't see their faces beneath their helmets. Her blonde hair whipped straight back from her head. The wind had picked up, hitting against her, slowing whatever progress she might make. The horses only grew louder. The leader pulled up along side her. Suddenly, she heard the singing of a blade whistling through the air. Tatiana screamed, feeling the abrupt sting of the sword as it lopped off her head.

Marcello felt Tatiana go limp and unmoving. Her fingers slid off his chest and didn't lift to touch or fight him. Her chin fell down, bouncing to the side. He tried to read into her, see what was happening. He could tell she'd removed herself from him, letting him have her body as he would, but not being there to witness or feel it.

Suddenly, she stiffened on his lap. He felt her muscles tense as she arched back from him. He held tightly, forcing her forward into his embrace. Tatiana screamed, a loud piercing yell of fear and outrage and helplessness. Marcello wasn't worried about the noise. Cesare would hear it, but wouldn't care or think to answer.

Just as suddenly, her body relaxed, falling forward into him. A light moan left her lips, brushing his neck, as she whispered,"Esprit Malin."

Tatiana blinked, coming out of the strange vision. Her body sung with life, with a current of strange and heady power. Her lips moved, panting and harsh. She felt the cool texture of silk against them. Arms held her closely and a light feminine moan of near contentment escaped her body. Realizing the silk was masculine flesh, she trembled in delight.

Marcello tensed as he felt her begin to nibble at his neck, biting him with her flat teeth. Pleasure shot through his sensitive flesh. His eyes rolled back in his head, dreamily. He didn't know why she'd been trying to deny him--this was how he remembered her, dreamt of her.

"Mmm, bella mia," Marcello whispered, encouraging her. His body was ready to impale her flesh. His hands roamed over her lower back, grasping into the lavender silk of her gown. He couldn't wait to get her home and into the new wardrobe he bought for her.

Tatiana's fingers curled around his strong shoulders, gliding over the black silk in a possessive caress. Her nails scratched leisurely into the neckline of his shirt, feeling the smooth grace of his skin. His texture was addictive. She began to lick, darting her tongue to taste him.

Marcello's hands lifted her skirts, easing them over her legs to bare her hips to his touch. A rip sounded as Tatiana sat back on his lap, tearing open his shirt. A grin tried to spread over his face, but as he saw her expression, the look faded.

Her narrowed eyes looked crazily at him, glimmering from within their jade depths. Her lips parted as if to murmur. The words were ancient, chanting, droning. She lifted her fist as if she wielded a knife. Bloodl.u.s.t entered her face.

Marcello froze. He knew well the look of bloodl.u.s.t. Her hand rose as if she would stab his heart.

Growling, he realized she hadn't really been kissing him, but was still in a trance. The chanting became fiercer, her eyes wilder. With an irritated howl, Marcello shoved her back, slamming her body across the carriage.

Tatiana hit the seat hard, knocking her head. Her eyes faded to normal. She looked into the darkness stunned, gasping for breath. Then, to Marcello's surprise, she darted forward for the carriage door. Agony poured over him, confused and hurt. Her fingers found the handle, pulling at the latch to open the door.

Outside the world flew past in a blur. Her body throbbed where she'd struck the seat. Her limbs were still weak from his attack on her blood. She needed out of the dark. She needed to escape the devil that kept her prisoner and made her have these horrible hallucinations. Marcello was a stranger to her, yet her body tried to convince her she knew him well.

Without stopping to think, Tatiana dove forward, knowing that the fall would most likely break her neck. She didn't care.

Death would be preferable to these sensations in her body, her longing to kiss her tormentor. She felt herself falling forward to the earth. She braced for the impact.

The impact came, but not from beneath her. A pair of strong, unforgiving arms wound around her waist, pulling her into a chest of steel. She gasped, knowing Marcello had come after her. Even as they fell, she fought him. His body turned, blocking the impact of their fall with his back.

Tatiana heard him groan as she crashed on top of him. His body shielded hers from the brunt of the fall. They skidded across the ground. Marcello didn't let her go. As their bodies finally stopped, she held still, dazed.

Marcello jumped up, landing them on their feet. Instantly, he released her, pushing her roughly away. With a look of disgust, he examined his ripped cloak. The black material was destroyed beyond repair, torn through the blood red lining. He swung it off his shoulders and onto the ground. His shirt was ripped from where she jerked it open.

Marcello didn't read her thoughts, too angry with her at the moment to try, and not trusting himself not to bite her. He'd nearly drained her last time. If he were to taste her blood again, he knew he would finish the job.

"Cesare!" Marcello bellowed to his servitor. He swiped at his dirt covered clothes in vain disgust. He was filled with a demonic rage. Angrily, he darted forward and gripped her arms, holding her tightly to his bared chest.

Tatiana jolted in surprise but her limbs were too shaky to do much else. The vision had taken so much out of her. She was hungry and so very tired. She swayed on her feet, ready to fall back down.

The carriage whipped around, coming back at full speed to gather them. The four horses thundered, halting to a stop at the last moment. Cesare sat on top, calmly staring forward with his white lifeless eyes.

Her face came to his chest, her shoulders dwarfed by Marcello's. She looked up at the vampire holding her, again able to see his face shadowed by moonlight. His heart beat strong and angry along her hand, beneath his cool flesh. In the darkness, she'd almost been able to convince herself that his beauty was imagined. His face held the eternity of youth, but with an overcast of wisdom and age and boredom.

Her nerves stretched, treacherously reaching for him. Her hands tried to soak in the texture of his skin, recognizing it on a baser level she tried to deny. She attempted to fight her longing, knowing it had to be a spell he cast over her. Even with his eyes filling with red and his fangs glinting like knives from behind his firm lips, she could see his handsomeness. It made her tremble. But, beyond that, his body had strength, a power that made her feel frail and helpless.

Roughly, the Count tossed her back within the carriage. Tatiana screamed as she flew through the air. With a supernatural speed, Marcello whipped around to the doors, locking her inside. She beat against her prison walls, but he didn't release her.

Furiously, Marcello glared at the carriage. Hunger bit his stomach, making him ache. He needed to feed and fast. Tatiana's little show of defiance had nearly killed her and had weakened him. He planned on claiming her as his lover soon enough, but first she was going to learn her place as his slave. She'd given her oath to obey him and obey she would. No more of her witch's nonsense.

Turning to Cesare, who had picked up and was smoothing out his master's discarded cloak, Marcello ordered, "Stay here. I've got to hunt. I'll be back in a moment."

In truth, her trance had amazed him. He knew what she was, but had no idea she was so powerful. Remembering the look of pure horror on her face afterward, he frowned. It was quite possibleshe didn't know how powerful she was. Best if he had her tempered back for now. He would take her to a crone and have her abilities magically bound.

"Remain where you are,bella mia . If you even try to escape me, I will slaughter five innocent children every eve for a fortnight!" Marcello growled into the door, thundering mad. His eyes rimmed with red, raging at being denied blood and s.e.x.