Chapter Thirty-four



It was her wedding night. It was the first thought to cross Kelly's mind when she woke. She glanced over at Eddie.

He winked at her. "Tonight's the night," he said, grinning.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"Not a chance, love. Have you?"

"No way." She moved closer to him, one leg draping over his, her arm resting on his chest.

He slid his hand around the back of her head and kissed her. "How much time do you need to get ready?"

"How much time do I have?"

"We are supposed to be there in an hour."

"An hour!" She jumped out of bed. "You expect me to be ready in an hour?"

Ramsey laughed softly. "Take as long as you need, Kelly, my love. They will not start without us."

The park was dark and quiet. A winding stream glistened like a ribbon of black silk in the light of a full yellow moon. The air was fragrant with the scent of trees and grass and flowering shrubs.

Kelly looked up at Edward when they reached the place they had chosen. "Maybe you were right. Maybe Khira won't let Grigori come. But Marisa said she'd be here."

"Stop worrying," he said. "You're here, and that's all that matters." His gaze moved over her. "Did I tell you how beautiful you are?"

"Yes, but tell me again."

"More beautiful than any woman in the world," he said. "More beautiful than anything or anyone I've ever seen."

And it was true. She had decided against traditional white; instead, she wore a sleeveless gown of soft, shimmering black.

"Like Vampira, Mistress of the Dark," she had said, grinning.

"Mistress of my heart," he replied. "Look, here comes Marisa now."

Kelly glanced over her shoulder to see Marisa walking toward them, a package tied with a white bow in her hands. Even from a distance, Kelly could see the sadness that shadowed the other woman's eyes.

There was a ripple in the air, a change that sent a shiver down Kelly's spine.

And then, in a scene reminiscent of a horror movie, Khira appeared, materializing out of the deep shadows of the night in a shimmer of iridescent silver. She looked ethereal in a golden gown that clung to her body like a second skin. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight.

"What's she doing here?" Kelly exclaimed softly.

A moment later, Grigori appeared at Khira's side. Tall and elegant, clad all in black, he was the handsomest man Kelly had ever seen. She did not miss the look that passed between Marisa and Grigori. The love that flowed between them made her heart ache. Marisa started toward him, then stopped when he shook his head.

"I guess we should have known she wouldn't let him come alone," Ramsey muttered. He swore under his breath as another young woman materialized, looking lost and alone. "Lisa," he said. "Damn, this just keeps getting worse."

Holding back her tears, Marisa hurried forward to hug Kelly. "You look lovely."

"So do you. I'm glad you came."

Marisa nodded. Nothing would have kept her away, not when there'd been a chance that Grigori would be here.

The minister arrived a few minutes later.

The service was brief. The atmosphere tense. Kelly could feel Marisa's longing, Khira's jealousy, Grigori's barely restrained anger, Lisa's fear. And over all, Khira's power roiled like a storm waiting to strike.

Kelly smiled at Edward when the minister asked if he would have her as his wife "for as long as you both shall live."

"Forever." Edward squeezed her hand as he whispered the word.

"Forever," Kelly repeated.

She gazed into Edward's eyes as the minister pronounced them man and wife, felt his love surround her as he lowered his head and claimed his first kiss as her husband. A kiss that went on and on. She leaned into him, all else forgotten as his love surrounded her.

She was breathless when he released her.

The minister offered his congratulations, accepted his fee, and left the park.

Marisa and Lisa came forward to hug her and wish her well.

Khira glided forward with queenly grace. "I do hope you don't mind my coming uninvited," she said coolly. "I was certain my lack of an invitation was merely an oversight." Her gaze moved over Kelly, glittering like shards of ice blue glass. "I do wish you well, my dear."

Turning toward Edward, she kissed him, and when she drew back, there was blood on his lower lip. Looking smug, she moved away to speak to Lisa.

Grigori hugged Kelly and then shook Edward's hand. "Be good to each other."

"Is there anything you want me to tell Marisa?" Kelly asked quietly.

Grigori looked past her to where Marisa stood. "Only that I love her more than my life."

Khira's voice cut across the night. "Grigori, let us go." She reached for his hand and then stopped. Lifting her head, she sniffed the air.

Blood. The scent of it filled Kelly's nostrils.

Tom Duncan crawled forward, then swore softly as something sharp sliced into his left hand. Rocking back on his heels, he stared at the shard of glass protruding from his palm. Damn. Damn, damn, damn! Even in the darkness, he could see the blood pooling in his hand.

He peered through the bushes, froze as Khira turned his way. Head lifted, she sniffed the air.

"I knew this was a dumb idea," he muttered.

Grabbing his handkerchief, he wrapped it tightly around his palm, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a large vial of holy water. He touched the wooden stake tucked into his waistband to make sure it was still there.

All the vampires were looking in his direction now. He could feel their senses reaching out, testing the air for danger.

And then Khira was there, fire blazing in the depths of her ice blue eyes. "Looking for me?" she asked.

He tried to draw his gaze from hers, grunted as she grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him to his feet.

"Edward," she purred, glancing over her shoulder. "How thoughtful of you to provide refreshments for your guests."

"Let him go," Ramsey said.

"Before we've dined? I think not."

"He's a friend of mine," Ramsey said. "Let him go."

Khira shook her head. Baring her fangs, she bent over Duncan's neck. He went limp until he felt her fangs graze his throat; then, with a cry, he jerked his hand up, splashing the contents of the vial into her face.

Khira shrieked with pain, but she didn't release him. Lifting him off his feet as though he weighed no more than a child, she slammed him to the ground with enough force to drive the breath from his body. The holy water made sizzling sounds as it burned her skin. Duncan stared up at her, his stomach churning. He tried to rise, but he was helpless, held immobile by the strength of her will alone.

She was going to kill him.

"No!" With a feral cry, Ramsey launched himself at Khira.

She struck him with the full force of her power and he went flying backward, his back slamming into a tree, hitting it so hard that the trunk split in half.

Momentarily freed from her hold on him, Duncan tried to crawl away, but her power caught him again. He screamed as pain engulfed him, writhed in agony as her hellish power spread through every nerve, every cell. And then, blessedly, miraculously, he was free.

He curled in on himself, hardly able to breathe.

Through a red haze, he watched Ramsey and the two female vampires attack Khira. It was a silent, deadly dance. Preternatural power sang through the air, crackling like lightning. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Khira sent Kelly and Ramsey reeling backward and then, with a savage howl, she grabbed the young female vampire and buried her fangs in her throat.

Ramsey and Kelly rushed toward Khira once again, but her power, strengthened by the blood of the young vampire, hurled them backward. The girl whimpered softly as Khira continued to drink, draining her of blood, of life, and when she was done, Khira lifted one clawed hand and ripped the young vampire's heart from her chest. She flung the corpse aside and turned on Kelly. A wave of her hand sent Kelly to her knees. Kelly screamed in agony. Bloodred tears welled in her eyes.

With a savage cry, Ramsey launched himself at Khira.

It was then that Chiavari moved in. Grabbing Khira by the arm, he tried to pull her away from Ramsey. She turned on him in a fury, power radiating from her like sparks from a brush fire.

A voice whispered urgently in Duncan's ear. "Get up! We've got to get out of here!"

Duncan stared up into Marisa's eyes.

"Hurry!" she said.

He nodded and tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support him.

"Come on!" Grabbing him by the arm, she pulled him to his feet and dragged him to the street where her car was parked. Opening the door, she shoved him inside, ran around to the driver's side, opened the door, and slid behind the wheel. She could hear Grigori's voice in her mind, telling her to get the hell out of there before it was too late.

Duncan glanced out the rear window. "Step on it!"

"Where are you staying?"

He gave her the directions to his motel, then sank back against the seat and closed his eyes. He hurt all over.

"Are you crazy?" Marisa asked. "What the hell were you doing there?" She shook her head. "You weren't going to try and destroy her tonight, were you?"

"No. We weren't ready."

"Then why... ?"

"There was no way to know what Khira would do tonight. Ramsey wanted me to be there as backup. Some backup," he added bitterly.

"How much further?"

"A couple blocks. It's on the right side."

"Will she follow us?"

"I don't think so," he said wearily. "She's fed off another vampire. That should hold even Khira for at least a while."

She drove the rest of the way in silence. When she reached the motel, she pulled into the lot and switched off the engine. "Will you be all right?"

"Oh, yeah," he muttered. "No worries."

He opened the door, took a deep breath, and stood up.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Yeah. I'm not so sure about you, though."

"Me?"

"I don't think you ought to go home tonight."

"Why not?" she asked, and then nodded. "You're probably right."

"Come on," he said, "help me inside."

She grabbed her bag, slid out of the car and locked the door, then walked around the car. She slipped her arm around his waist and they walked slowly toward his room.

Marisa glanced over her shoulder while he fumbled for his key. "What if she finds us?"

"Well, vampires aren't supposed to be able to enter a dwelling uninvited." He opened the door and staggered inside. "I sure as hell hope she knows that."

Marisa followed him inside, shut the door, and locked it.

It did little to make Duncan feel safer. Having felt the force of Khira's power, he doubted if he would ever feel safe again.

Duncan fell onto the bed nearest the door. The room looked pretty much like every other motel room he'd ever seen. There was an ugly brown carpet on the floor, a pair of queen-size beds with flowered spreads, drapes heavily lined to shut out the sun, a cheap painting of a landscape on one wall, a mirror on another, a chest of drawers with a television set on top, a sagging overstuffed chair by the single window.

Muttering an oath, he closed his eyes. He had never felt so miserable in his whole life. Not when he'd had the flu. Not when, at the age of sixteen, he'd caught a bad case of chicken pox. Not last year, when he had come down with food poisoning.

He opened one eye to find Marisa staring down at him. She was a pretty woman, he thought absently, and wondered how the hell she had gotten mixed up with a vampire.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked.

"Coffee. Hot. Black."

"Only if they deliver," she replied, shivering. "I'm not going outside until the sun's up."

"In the bathroom. Courtesy coffee."

She grimaced, then left the room.

Duncan tried to relax, but it was no use. He kept seeing the look in Khira's eyes as she slammed him to the ground, couldn't shake off the sheer terror that had turned his blood to ice when she turned the full force of her gaze on him. He had tangled with a lot of powerful vampires in his day, but never, never anything quite like Khira. He wondered if she was able to move about during the day, if she was immune to sunlight.

She wasn't immune to holy water, though. That was something, at least.

He took some grim satisfaction in that remembered shriek of horror and the sight of her face, the skin steaming and seeming to melt away. She had hurt him, yes, but he had gotten in his licks... The thought made him feel better. She was dangerous, but so was he.

"Here." Marisa's voice.

He opened his eyes as the scent of coffee tickled his nostrils.

"Can you sit up?"

"I think so." It took all his strength to pull himself into a sitting position. When he had his back braced against the headboard, she handed him the cup. "Thanks." He took a sip, sighed, and took another drink.

The hot, bitter brew slid down his throat.

"What did she do to you?" Marisa asked.

"Beats the hell out of me." He drank the last of the coffee and put the cup on the table beside the bed. "Ramsey told me your husband is shacked up with Khira."

"He is not shacked up! He's..." She turned away, but not before he saw the anguish in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm sorry. But he is living with her, right?"

She nodded. "She told Grigori she'd kill me unless he agreed to spend a year with her."

"And when the year is up, what then?"

"I think... I think she's hoping that he'll want to stay with her."

"Will he?"

"I don't know."

It was a question that haunted her long after Duncan had fallen asleep. Sitting in the chair by the window, her legs curled beneath her, Marisa thought about Grigori. She had been drawn to him from the moment she first saw him, mesmerized by his voice. She recalled thinking it was richer than dark chocolate, more intoxicating than wine. She remembered the night, soon after she had met Grigori, when she had felt Alexi's presence outside her apartment. Grigori had gone out to meet him, and they had struggled. Grigori had returned, his cheek bleeding from where the other vampire had stuck him. The wounds had been deep, down to the bone. The sight had made her sick to her stomach, yet the wound had healed before her eyes. Vampire. She had not wanted to believe it, had fallen in love in spite of what he was.

She thought of the horrible night that Alexi had been destroyed, the night Grigori had, at her urging, bestowed the Dark Gift upon Edward. So much had happened since then.

She recalled all too clearly the night Grigori had come home after hunting with Khira. He had never spoken to her of that night, but she had known what he was feeling, had sensed his struggle to suppress the darkness within him. One night of hunting with Khira had destroyed the peace he had fought so hard to achieve, awakened cravings he had thought long subdued.

She had seen the demon within him that night, seen the raw, aching hunger for blood. What would he be like after spending a year with Khira? Would the Grigori she loved return to her or be lost forever? Where was he now?

She closed her eyes, her soul searching for him, her heart aching, her arms yearning to hold him.

"Grigori." She wrapped his name in her love and sent it out into the night, hoping he would hear.