"Marisa!" Her mother hugged her tightly, then stepped back and looked her up and down. "How well you look...." The words trailed off. "No, you don't look well at all! What's the matter, Marty? Having second thoughts? Well, I can't say as I blame you. You just met the man - "
Jack Richards drew his daughter into his arms and gave her a bear hug. "Lay off, Marge, we just got here." He winked at Marisa. "You look fine to me. A little tired, maybe, but your mother looked like death warmed over two days before we got married. You got any coffee?"
"Sure, Dad."
Marisa went into the kitchen. Death warmed over. Interesting that her father would use that phrase. She glanced over her shoulder as her father entered the kitchen and sat down at the table.
"Terrible, these killings." He spread the newspaper out on the table, the same paper Edward had dropped on the floor earlier, judging by the wrinkles in it.
"Yes, terrible," Marisa agreed. She handed her father a cup of coffee and sat down across from him. Ask him how many people he's killed... I never hunt where I live... Ask him how many lives he's taken to sustain his own... I haven't killed anyone in over a hundred and fifty years...
"What is it, Marty? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Dad, just wedding jitters, I guess."
"Where'd you meet this guy?"
"At a carnival just after Halloween."
Jack Richards laughed out loud. It was a good sound, deep and rich, reminding Marisa of camping trips and hikes through the woods, and birthday parties.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to laugh." He shook his head. "Do you love him?"
"Yes." There's just one thing wrong with him. He's a vampire.
"Does he love you?"
"Yes." He thinks my blood is the sweetest nectar of all. She shook the thought from her mind. "Where's Mom?"
"Unpacking." He reached across the table and took her hand. "If you love each other, truly love each other, everything will work out. Trust me. And if it doesn't, well, you know your mother and I are always here for you."
"I know, Dad. Thanks." She squeezed his hand, thinking how lucky she was to have this man for her father. He'd always been there for her. He'd taught her to ride a two-wheeler, taken her to her first concert, comforted her when she broke up with her first boyfriend, bought her her first corsage. He'd taught her to drive a car, persuaded her mother to let her shave her legs because all the other girls were doing it, slipped her an extra dollar or two when her allowance ran out, helped her with her homework.
"So, Marty, are we too late for breakfast?" her mother asked as she came into the kitchen.
"No, Mom. What would you like?"
"You just sit down and let me take care of it."
"Mom, you're my guest."
"Don't be silly. I'm not a guest, I'm your mother. You go get dressed, and I'll fix breakfast. What do you want?"
Marisa smiled at her parents, thinking how lucky she was. "Whatever Dad wants is fine with me."
"That's my girl," Jack said with a grin. "French toast and bacon. How's that sound?"
"Perfect!" Marisa winked at her father, and then left the room, smiling.
Mike and Barbara and their kids arrived a little after one. Marisa hugged her nieces and nephews. At ten, Mike Junior was the eldest; then came Nikki, who was eight, Mindy, who was six, and Danny, who had just turned two.
"I don't know why you live here," Mike complained as he gave her a hug. "The traffic is terrible."
"But the weather is wonderful."
"I guess. Couldn't you have gotten married in the summer so we could hit the beach?"
"Sorry, Mike."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Just ignore him," Barbara advised. "He's been complaining ever since the plane landed. You know how he hates to leave Colorado."
"How are you, Barb?" Marisa asked, giving her sister-in-law a hug.
"How am I? I'm pregnant, that's how I am."
"That's wonderful!" Marisa exclaimed, and in the back of her mind she heard Grigori urging her to marry a man who could give her children. She looked at Mike's kids. They were all beautiful, well behaved.
"Another baby!" Marge Richards rushed forward and hugged Barbara. "I thought Marisa would have the next one."
"Me too," Barbara said. "We really weren't planning on any more, but - " She shrugged. "Things happen."
Mike grinned. "Yep."
"Congratulations, son." Jack shook Mike's hand, then pulled him into his arms and hugged him. "Good thing you've got those three acres."
"There's room for you and Mom."
"No, thanks, my days of shoveling snow are over."
"Why didn't you tell us this at Christmas?" Marge asked.
"I just found out yesterday. I thought I had the flu."
"Can we watch a video. Aunt Marty?"
"Sure, Mindy. You know where they are."
"I don't want to watch TV," Mike Junior said. "Can Nikki and I play on your computer?"
Marisa smiled at her nephew. "Sure, Mike."
With the two younger kids settled in front of the television watching Beauty and the Beast, the adults went into the kitchen for coffee and conversation.
"So I can't wait to meet Grigori," Barbara said. "What's he look like?"
"A GQ model."
"Really?" Barbara grinned lasciviously. " 'Bout time we had a handsome man in the family."
"Hey!" Mike exclaimed. "What about me?"
"You?" Barbara shrieked as Mike poked her in the ribs. "What about you?"
"I'm handsome. Aren't I, Marty?"
"Well..."
"Hey, come on, I'm your brother. You're supposed to back me up."
"Right. Like you backed me up when I asked you if Steve Renouf liked me, and you spread it all over the school that I had a crush on him."
"Haven't you forgotten about that yet?"
"No, and I never will."
"Okay, kids, settle down," Jack said. "I don't wanna have to send you to your rooms."
Marisa and Mike exchanged looks and then burst into laughter, and Marisa thought again how wonderful it was to have her family there, to feel the love they shared for one another.
They reminisced about old times, exchanged news, talked about the wedding. Before long it was time to get ready for dinner. Mr. Abbott's wife had agreed to come and stay with the kids while the adults went out to dinner.
Marisa ordered pizza for the kids, and then it was six o'clock.
There were millions of butterflies going crazy in her stomach by the time Grigori arrived. Would her parents like him? Would he like them? Would they notice there was something different about him?
He kissed her cheek when she opened the door. "You look lovely," he whispered, and his breath felt warm and intimate against her ear.
"Thanks. Are you ready to meet everyone?"
He nodded. "Worried?"
"A little."
He smiled down at her. "I love you, cara."
Words. They were just words. Ordinary words that were said every day, but they washed over her like a soothing balm, calming the butterflies.
"I love you, too." She took his hand and led him into the living room. "Hey, everybody, this is Grigori."
Was it her imagination, or was there a sudden lack of oxygen in the room? Her father and Mike exchanged glances she couldn't interpret. Her mother pressed a hand to her heart. Barbara murmured, "Oh, my, you were right."
Grigori slid a glance at Maria. "Right? About what?"
"I told them you looked like a GQ model."
"Ahhh."
She quickly introduced Grigori to everyone, including the kids, and then they trooped outside.
Mike let out a long, low whistle when he saw Grigori's Corvette. "Wow, nice wheels."
"You should see mine." Marisa tossed the words over her shoulder as she slid into the passenger seat. "Mine's red."
Mike looked at Grigori. "She's kidding, right?"
Grigori shook his head.
"But... but how?"
"And it's a convertible," Marisa added.
She grinned at the look of astonishment on her brother's face.
Mike, Barb, and her parents climbed into the van Mike had rented, and Grigori pulled away from the curb. He checked the rearview mirror to make certain her family was following, then gave her knee a squeeze. "You look like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary."
"I can't help it." She grinned at him. "This is the first time I ever had a better car than Mike." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for that."
"You are most welcome. How was your day?"
"Fine - " The words died in her throat as she recalled Edward's visit that morning. In the rush of her family's arrival, she had forgotten all about it.
Grigori glanced over at her, noting the worry lines in her brow. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it now."
"As you wish."
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Dinner went well. Marisa watched Grigori carefully. She recalled the time they had gone to dinner at the North Woods Inn. He'd ordered a steak and she would have sworn he ate it. She knew better now. He toyed with the food on his plate, but never really ate anything. Yet she knew that if she were to ask her parents about it later, they would assure her that he'd eaten a full meal.
Talk at the table was polite and restrained at first, but gradually everyone relaxed. They talked about the wedding; then Jack and Marge told about their wedding, and Mike and Barb reminisced about their own. Champagne flowed freely, as did the conversation and the laughter.
"So," Barbara said, "where are you two going for your honeymoon?"
"We're going to stay home."
"Home!"
Marisa nodded. "Grigori said we could go wherever I wanted, but I want to stay home, in our own house, just the two of us."
"You always said you wanted to go to Italy for your honeymoon," Marge remarked.
Marisa looked at Grigori and smiled. "I've been to Italy."
"You have!" her father exclaimed. "When?"
"Not long ago. It was a quick, unexpected trip."
"Really?" Mike frowned at her. "You never mentioned it."
"Didn't I? I'm ready for dessert. Mom, what are you going to have?"
Grigori grinned as she neatly changed the subject.
It was late when they returned to Marisa's apartment. Mike and Barb picked up their kids, and then left for the motel. Jack and Marge bid Marisa and Grigori good night and went to bed.
Marisa sat down on the sofa and pulled a pillow into her lap. "Well," she said, "alone at last."
"Indeed." He regarded her thoughtfully a moment, and then sat down beside her. "Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing, really."
"Really?"
She blew out a deep breath. "Edward came by this morning."
"I see."
"There's been another killing. Did you know that?"
He nodded. "Go on."
"He said a lot of foolish things. It doesn't matter."
"I think it matters very much. What did he say?"
Marisa glanced at the hallway. "We can't talk about it here." She gasped as he took her in his arms and stood up. "What are you doing?"
"Going where we can talk."
Before she could protest, before she could ask where they were going, they were there.
He placed her on her feet, and then turned on the lights. "There's no one to overhear us now."
"I really don't want to discuss it."
"Don't you? Something's troubling you. I've known it all night. It's more than another killing. What is it?"
It was cold in the house. She wrapped her arms around her body, wondering if she was shaking from the chill in the air, or the coldness in Grigori's eyes.
He turned away from her. She saw him wave his hand, and in the next instant, there was a fire in the fireplace. He took several slow, deep breaths, and then turned to face her.
"Tell me, Marisa."
"He said I was crazy to marry you, that I should ask you how many people you've killed. He - " She wrapped her arms around her waist. "He asked me if I wanted to be next."
Grigori swore under his breath. "Dammit, Marisa, what do you want me to say?"
"I just want the truth."
"I've told you the truth. I've killed people. I told you that. Maybe I glossed over it to spare your feelings, but I never lied to you about it. There were times, in the beginning, before I learned to control the Hunger, that people died. I can't do anything about that. Their deaths haunted me then. They haunt me now. But I can't change the past."
He crossed the floor to the window. Drawing back the curtain, he gazed out into the darkness. "Maybe I'm just kidding myself," he murmured. "I thought we could make this work. Maybe I was wrong."
The anguish in his voice, the loneliness, tugged at her heart. She went to stand behind him. "I love you, you know I do."
He could feel her close to him. Her warmth engulfed him; her scent surrounded him. "Maybe that's not enough."
"What else is there?"
"Trust."
"I do trust you."
"Do you? Can you tell me, honestly, that you're not afraid of me, that there isn't a part of you that doesn't wonder if Ramsey is right?"
"Search my mind, Grigori, and find the truth for yourself."
"Marisa..." Slowly, he turned to face her. "If you're not sure, if you have any doubts, tell me now, before it's too late. I told you before, once you're mine, I will not let you go. There will be no divorce if you decide you've made a mistake." His gaze trapped and held hers. "Be sure."
He needed her. All her life, she had wanted someone who would love her unconditionally, someone who would need her, someone who couldn't live without her. "I'm sure."
With infinite care, he drew her into his arms. "I love you, cara mia. I will never love another."
With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest, felt his love wash over her, warm and sweet. This was right. This was where she belonged.
Friday was a pleasant day. Mike and his family came over for breakfast. Later, the kids watched TV while the adults played cards. It was just the kind of day Marisa needed. A time to spend with her family, to relax and have a good time with the people she loved most.
They discussed names for the new baby. It started out as a serious discussion and they suggested names like John and Mary. Eventually, as they tried to top each other, they were tossing out names like Heathcliffe and Hildegarde. It felt good to laugh.
They ordered pizza for lunch, and then went out for ice cream.
Back at home, Barbara put Danny down for a nap. Mike Junior and Nikki went to play on the computer. Mindy went into the bedroom to play with her Barbies. When the kids were all settled in other rooms, the questions started.
"So," her father asked, "what does Grigori do for a living?"
"He's a magician."
"A magician!" her mother exclaimed. "Really? I've never known a magician."
"Does he do children's parties?" Barbara asked.
"I don't think so."
"I've never heard of him," Mike remarked. "Does he use a stage name?"
"I don't know."
"You don't?"
Marisa shrugged. "I just assumed he used his own name. He hasn't been in this country very long. He's from Italy."
"You're not moving to Italy, are you?" Marge asked.
"No. Well, I don't think so. We never discussed it."
"I thought he'd be coming by today," Mike said.
"He had some last-minute errands of his own to run."
"I think he's pretty," Nikki said. She sat on the arm of the sofa beside Marisa. "Is he really a magician? Would he do some tricks for us?"
"I don't know, sweetie; you'll have to ask him. I thought you were playing "Doom" with Mike."
"He's hogging the computer. Is Grigori coming over later? I like him."
"Me too."
"You're not going to quit your job, are you?"
"No, Dad, why?"
"Well..."
"Well, what?"
"Well, can he support you? I mean, he doesn't seem to be working."
"He's got money, Dad. He just bought a big old house up in the hills. And who do you think bought my car? I certainly couldn't afford it. Not on my salary."
"I don't mean to upset you, honey, but you haven't known this guy very long. He seems nice enough, but there's something about him. I don't know what it is. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think you ought to hang on to your job until... well, you know."
"Jack, Marty's a big girl now," Marge said. "She knows what she's doing."
"Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome, Marty." Marge toyed with her necklace a moment. "Still, your Dad makes good sense."
"He always has," Marisa said. "I'm gonna get a Coke."
"Can I have one?" Nikki asked.
"Sure, sweetie."
Marisa went into the kitchen and pressed her forehead against the refrigerator door. She couldn't blame her parents for worrying about her. She had doubts, too. Marriage was a big step. She didn't want to be one of those women who changed husbands as often as they changed their shoes. She wanted it to be forever.
"Forever," she muttered. That was funny. Grigori really could give her forever, if she wanted it.
"You okay?"
Marisa straightened up and opened the door to the fridge. "I'm fine, Mike." She pulled out two cans of Coke. "Do you want anything?"
"No. Don't let Dad get to ya. He's just, you know, being a dad."
"I know." She closed the door, and then turned to face her brother. "It's all right."
"Well, you looked a little upset."
Marisa shook her head. "I'm not, really."
"Dad's right about one thing, though. You haven't known Grigori very long. Why the sudden rush to get married? I mean, you've waited this long."
"Not you, too!"
"Hey, I'm not criticizing, I'm just asking."
"I love him and I want to marry him. Why is that so hard to believe? Just because it took you and Barb two years to decide to get married doesn't mean it has to take me that long, too. Mom and Dad knew each other less than a year when they got married."
"I know, but - " Mike placed his hands on her shoulders. "Dad's right about something else, too. There is something strange about Grigori. He's different somehow."
"Mike, just drop it, okay? I know what I'm doing."
He squeezed her shoulders. "I know you do. We just love you, sis, that's all."
"I know." Their love was like a blanket, usually warm and welcome, but sometimes it smothered her.
Grigori arrived at sundown. Marisa was in the kitchen with her mother and Barbara, trying to decide what to do about dinner, when the doorbell rang.
A flutter in her stomach, a subtle change in the atmosphere told her it was Grigori even before she opened the door. As always, her first sight of him took her breath away. He was so tall, so incredibly good-looking. And his smile... a smile that was just for her, it made her insides turn to mush.
"Cara." He bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips.
"Hi." He wore black slacks, boots, and a bulky gray sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders. "Come on in. We're trying to decide what to do about dinner."
His gaze slid over her face to the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. He felt the sharp prick of his fangs against his tongue and wondered if he would be able to control his hunger for her once she was truly his.
Marisa's heart skipped a beat as his gaze moved over her. He didn't say anything, but she knew what he was thinking. Unbidden, unwanted, Edward's voice rose in the back of her mind: Then ask yourself if you want to be next.
She lifted her gaze to his. The sound of the evening news, the voices of her family, the traffic on the street, everything faded into the distance, ceased to exist, until there were only the two of them standing in the entry hall.
"Marisa..." He cupped her face in his hands, his fingertips moving lightly over her skin. "Give me a chance, cara. I'll make you happy, I swear it."
She didn't know what to say. His eyes were dark and vulnerable, filled with the pain, the loneliness, of two hundred years.
"I love you, cara mia."
"I know you do." Dammit, Marisa, he's a vampire. Edward's voice rang out in her mind. He's incapable of love. She moved into Grigori's embrace and wrapped her arms around his waist. "And I love you."
"No doubts?"
"Just the usual doubts every bride has."
"That's all?"
She met his gaze again. "That's all. I'm not afraid of you, Grigori. I'm not afraid of what you are, only that I'll disappoint you."
"Never!"
He kissed her lightly, sweetly, and when he drew away, the world returned.
Because they couldn't all agree on what they wanted for dinner, they ordered pizza for the kids, Chinese for Marge and Barbara, and Italian for everyone else.
"So, Grigori, my daughter says you're a magician," Jack remarked.
Dinner was over and they were in the living room.
"Yes."
"Could you do a trick for us?" Nikki asked.
"What would you like me to do? Saw you in half?"
Nikki giggled. "No, I don't think so." She punched Mike Junior on the arm. "Maybe you could just make my brother disappear."
"I could," Grigori replied solemnly, "but I'm not sure I could bring him back."
"That'd be okay with me. Ouch! Mom, Mike hit me."
"That's enough, you two," Barbara warned.
Grigori glanced at Marisa. She grinned at him, one brow raised in amusement. Grigori grinned back, accepting the silent challenge in her eyes.
"I'll need an assistant," he said, rising to his feet. "Marisa?"
She rolled her eyes, then stood up and joined him in the center of the living room.
"Look into my eyes," Grigori said. "Forget where you are. We are alone in this room, just the two of us. Concentrate on the sound of my voice.... That's right... you are in my power now. You see only me, hear only me."
"I see only you," she murmured. "Hear only you."
"You will do whatever I tell you."
"Yes."
Grigori looked over at Marge and Jack, who were sitting on the sofa. "Would you get up, please?"
Marisa's parents exchanged glances, then stood up and went to stand near the fireplace.
Grigori lifted Marisa in his arms and carried her to the sofa. He laid her down, passed his hand over her face. "You will sleep now, Marisa, and will not awaken until I call your name."
Her eyelids closed.
He stood beside the sofa, and then, very slowly, he raised his arms, palms up. And she floated off the sofa to hover in the air.
"Wow!" Mike Junior exclaimed. "That's awesome!"
"Amazing."
"Impossible!"
"How can he do that?"
Slowly, Grigori lowered his arms. Light as a feather, Marisa landed on the sofa.
"Marisa," he called softly.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she sat up, blinking at him. "What happened?"
"He levitated you. Damn," Mike said, "how'd you do that? I've seen it done onstage, but... but I always thought it was done with wires." He shook his head. "I've got to hand it to you, that's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"Do me," Mindy said, tugging on Grigori's pant leg. "I want to fly, too."
"I don't think so." Barbara pulled her daughter into her lap. "You're not old enough to fly."
"Come on, man," Mike Junior said, "tell us how you did it."
"I'm afraid magicians are sworn never to reveal their secrets."
Barbara looked at her watch, and then stood up. "It's getting late. Kids, get your stuff together.
We've all got a big day tomorrow. Mike, are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, honey."
There was a flurry of activity as Mike and Barbara gathered up their kids and said their goodbyes. A few minutes later, Jack and Marge went to bed.
"Looks like I cleared the room," Grigori said. "That would be a problem if I were a real magician."
"Did you have to do something quite so flashy? I mean, couldn't you have done something that could be explained? And why did you make me go to sleep? I've never been levitated before, and I missed it."
"I was afraid it would scare you."
Marisa tugged on his sweater. "I'm marrying a vampire," she said with a grin. "If that doesn't scare me, nothing will."
He couldn't argue with that, so he kissed her.
"I should go," he said.
"It's early."
"Get a good night's sleep, cara. I'll keep you up late tomorrow night."
She grinned up at him, her insides quivering with anticipation.
"Domani, Marisa," he whispered. "Tomorrow, you will be mine."
The heat in his eyes, the husky tremor in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
Tomorrow.