Shifting shadows, a subtle change in the pulse and rhythm of the city, of the earth itself, as night spread her voluminous cloak across the face of the land.
Edward Ramsey came awake at the setting of the sun, all his senses alert. He sent his power outward, testing the air, but he detected no hint of danger.
He brushed a kiss across Kelly's cheek. Her skin was cool. She lay unmoving beside him, still caught in the deathlike sleep of their kind.
Their kind. I am a vampire. Even now, it was still hard to believe.
He smoothed a lock of hair from her brow. Even though he knew she would awaken soon, even though he knew her utter stillness was normal for a vampire, he found it disconcerting to see her like that, vulnerable and helpless - and more so to know that, when caught in the Dark Sleep, he was just as vulnerable, just as helpless.
She stirred a short time later, her eyelids fluttering, opening. She smiled when she saw him gazing down at her. "Hello, husband."
"Hello, wife."
She rolled over, draping her body across his, her fingertips trailing up and down his thigh. "We didn't get much of a honeymoon night, did we?"
Ramsey shook his head. "Maybe we can make up for it tonight."
She smiled a slow, sexy smile. "Are you reading my mind?"
"I hope so."
Ramsey folded her into his arms, his mouth finding hers, his hands moving over the smooth skin of her back. Their lovemaking was sometimes tender and sweet and sometimes, as now, filled with a dark fire edged with a fierce hunger. His power rose within him, emphasizing every sensation. He breathed in the scent of her skin, closed his eyes as he tasted her lips. It crossed his mind that, if not for Marisa and Chiavari, he would never have met Kelly. He would have been dead these past months, killed by Kristov's hand, never knowing the joy he had found in Kelly's arms.
She clung to him, her body moving against his like a living flame, her hands and lips igniting his desire. She whispered erotic suggestions in his ear, some that were wickedly funny, some inventive but quite impossible, even for a vampire.
He took pleasure in her release, in the way her body shuddered beneath his, in the touch of her fangs at his throat. His own release came soon after, an explosion that rocked him to the core of his being, heightened by the rich, coppery taste of her blood on his tongue...
Awash in contentment, he held her close in his arms, the scent of her blood arousing another hunger.
Kelly drew back so she could see his face. "Do you think it's safe to go out?"
"I hope so." He offered her a wry grin. "We could hunt in the hotel, I guess."
"Yeah, right."
"We need to go out, anyway," Ramsey said. "We have to find Marisa and Duncan."
"Do you really think Khira can be destroyed? That we can destroy her?"
"I don't know, but we have to try. She has to be stopped. She is as bad as Kristov ever was. Hell, she's worse."
"You're not a hunter anymore."
"But Duncan is. If I had any doubts about killing her before, they're gone now." He swore under his breath. "She has to be stopped before she kills us all."
Grigori rested deep in the heart of the earth, letting its warmth surround him, letting its energy flow into him, rejuvenating him. He summoned his power, flung it out into the vast reaches of the night. He felt Ramsey's determination to destroy Khira, Kelly's trepidation. He closed his eyes as his senses brushed the essence that was Marisa. Marisa, so warm and vital and alive, her love for him strong and unwavering. And over all, the evil canker of Khira's anger, spreading across the city like a dark stain, polluting everything it touched.
He stirred as the sun went down, drawn to the surface by the heartbeat of the city, a low quiet thrumming that sang like sweet music in his ears, urging him to rise, to feed.
It was a call he could not refuse. Not now, when the need for blood was pounding through him, merciless, relentless.
He burst forth from the earth filled with renewed strength and a powerful thirst. A thought took him down to his favorite hunting grounds at the beach. He prowled the darkened streets until he found a young couple necking in a late-model convertible. His mind closed on theirs, held them immobile while he quickly took what he wanted. What he needed. What he craved.
When he had drunk his fill, he wiped his memory from their minds, released them from his hold, and vanished into the ever-changing shadows of the night.
Marisa smoothed her skirt, wishing she had a change of clothes. A hundred dollars for a new dress, and it was ruined, stained with dirt and with Duncan's blood. "How's your hand?"
"Okay, I guess. Hurts a little."
"You probably need some stitches."
He shrugged. "Too late now."
She jumped, startled, when someone knocked on the door.
"Relax," Duncan said. "It's probably just the pizza."
She nodded. They had considered going out for something to eat but, in the end, had decided to play it safe and stay in. While she showered and washed her hair, Tom had called out and ordered a couple of pizzas.
Duncan went to the door. "Who is it?"
"Ramsey."
Startled, Duncan glanced over his shoulder at Marisa.
"Maybe we shouldn't let him in." She didn't think they were in any danger from Edward, but after what she had seen at the park, she wasn't feeling any too safe.
"I trust Ramsey," Duncan said. "If he wanted to kill me, he could have done it already."
Marisa nodded. "All right."
Tom unlocked the door, his confidence waning some when he saw the two vampires standing there.
"So, are you going to invite us in?" Ramsey asked, one brow raised in amusement.
"Sure, come on in, " Duncan said, and stood back to admit Edward and Kelly.
Marisa glanced from one vampire to the other. Edward was clad in a bulky light-blue sweater and a pair of black jeans; Kelly wore a bloodred sweater and a pair of white pants. From the vibrant glow in their cheeks, it was obvious both had fed recently.
For a moment, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut.
It was Duncan who broke the silence. "What brings you here, Ed?"
"What the hell do you think?" Ramsey retorted. "We need to talk."
With a nod, Duncan shut the door and slid the bolt home, then sat down on the edge of his bed. "You two might as well sit down and be comfortable."
Edward and Kelly sat on the other bed, holding hands.
Marisa sat in the room's only chair, one leg curled beneath her. "Have you seen Grigori?"
Ramsey shook his head. "I tried to locate him, but I couldn't. He's put up a mind block."
Marisa leaned forward. "You don't think he's..." She couldn't say the word.
"No."
"Why would he shut his mind against me?"
Kelly reached out and squeezed Marisa's hand. "I'm sure it's to protect you from Khira."
"Yes, Khira," Duncan said. His gaze settled on Ramsey. "Are you ready to tell me where she is?"
"She's staying at the LaSalle mansion. She..." Ramsey paused, his gaze darting toward the door. "Someone's here." He lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Did you order a pizza?"
Duncan nodded. A moment later, there was a knock on the door. Duncan opened the door a crack and looked out, then opened the door. He paid for the pizzas, handed the boxes to Marisa, then closed and locked the door.
Marisa set the boxes on top of the dresser. The first was ham and pineapple, the second sausage and pepperoni. Swimming in tomato sauce. It reminded her of blood.
"I don't think I'm as hungry as I thought," she murmured, turning away.
"I used to love pizza," Kelly remarked.
Duncan took a slice of sausage and pepperoni. Leaning one hip against the edge of the dresser, he wolfed it down. Looking at Ramsey, he smacked his lips appreciatively as he grabbed another slice and then sat down on the bed again.
"So," he said between mouthfuls, "what's Khira doing at the LaSalle place?"
"She saw it. She decided she wanted it." Ramsey shrugged. "She took it."
Duncan wiped his hand across his mouth. "What about LaSalle?"
Ramsey snorted disdainfully. "He left without a whimper."
"So." Duncan grabbed his third slice of pizza and munched it thoughtfully. "I guess I'll go pay her a little visit tomorrow morning." He looked at Ramsey. "I sure wish you were going with me."
Ramsey nodded. "I wish I could."
"You would be wiser," remarked a deep voice, "to visit her in the afternoon."
"Grigori!" Jumping to her feet, Marisa hurled herself into his arms when he suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. "Where have you been? How are you?" She ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, her gaze searching his face. "Are you all right?"
"Cara, you worry too much." Lowering his head, he kissed her tenderly.
She leaned into him, all else forgotten. He was here; he was well. For now, that was all that mattered. Khira, the danger they were in, everything else faded into the distance, swept away by the heat spiraling through her, by the sweet ecstasy of his lips on hers, his arms surrounding her.
Ramsey's voice penetrated the haze of passion. "You two coming up for air any time soon?"
"Maybe they'd better get their own room," Duncan remarked dryly.
Marisa felt her cheeks grow warm at the banter of the two men. Grigori smiled down at her. Lifting her into his arms, he sat down in the chair she had vacated, and settled her on his lap.
"You left her?" Ramsey asked, one brow raised in disbelief. "You left Khira? What about Marisa?"
"I'm not afraid," Marisa said. She looked up at Grigori. "Not as long as you're here."
Chiavari's arm tightened around her. "Marisa is in no more danger than the rest of us now. Khira intends to kill us. All of us."
Duncan swore softly. "Like hell."
"Exactly," Ramsey said. He looked at Duncan and smiled broadly. "Looks like we'll be working together again, after all."
The room fell silent a moment. Ramsey squeezed Kelly's hand. He could feel her fear. She wasn't the only one who was afraid, he thought. They all were.
"We need a plan," Ramsey said. "Khira's powerful, and she's smart. She won't go down without a fight."
Duncan nodded. "It'll have to be during the day."
"Maybe," Chiavari said. "And maybe not."
"What do you mean?" Marisa asked, her gaze searching Grigori's face. "You don't intend to fight her at night, when she's at her strongest?"
"Maybe you would rather not be involved," Ramsey said, addressing Chiavari. "You and Khira share a lot of history."
"She cannot be allowed to go on as she is," Grigori said quietly. "She is a danger, not only to us, but to everyone in the city."
"So, we're agreed," Ramsey said. "She must be destroyed."
Grigori nodded, his arm tightening around Marisa. He would do whatever he had to do to keep her safe.
"So," Ramsey said, "we need a plan."
"I've got a plan," Duncan said. "I'll go in tomorrow afternoon, stake her, and take her head. What could be simpler?"
"Almost anything," Grigori said dryly. "You don't know what you're dealing with here."
"She's a vampire, isn't she?" Duncan retorted. "I don't care how powerful she is. A stake through the heart will stop her clock, just like anybody else's."
Darkness moved through Grigori's eyes. "I am surprised you have survived this long, vampyre hunter." There was no mistaking the disdain in the last two words. "How have you hunted us for so long and learned so little?"
Duncan stood up. "I've made ten kills," he said. "Ten kills in almost fifteen years. She'll make eleven."
"Go, then," Grigori said, his voice as hard and cold as ice. "Try and take her. We will bury what is left of you, if there is anything left to find."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Duncan asked, bristling.
"It means you are a fool if you think you will be able to walk into her lair, find her, and stake her. She has not survived a thousand years by being careless or foolish."
"We know where she lives. It shouldn't be that hard to break in."
"You do not know if she rests there," Grigori said, his voice filled with contempt. "You know nothing of her habits. Or if anyone guards her lair while she sleeps."
Duncan glanced at Ramsey, his expression uncertain.
"He's right," Ramsey said. "You're letting your eagerness overcome your good sense." He held up his hand, silencing the protest he saw in Duncan's eyes. "I know you better than anyone, Tom. You're a good man, a capable hunter. And ten kills is an impressive record. But you've never gone up against a vampire as powerful as Khira, believe me. I've felt her power. I know what she can do."
"He's right," Grigori added. "As for being vulnerable during the daylight hours, she told me that the daylight has little power over her anymore. If you go charging into her house expecting to find a..." He glanced at Marisa. "A sleeping corpse, you may find yourself facing an enraged vampire who is very much awake. And far stronger than any mortal."
Duncan sat down, his face pale. "All right, you convinced me. Now what?"
Ramsey grinned ruefully. "I guess we still need a plan."
Khira stormed through the city like a dark angel of death, hunting and killing with relentless fury. With each life she snuffed from existence, with each steaming draught of life's blood, her strength increased - and with it, her rage.
Grigori had left her. Forsaken her. How dare he! Did he really think himself strong enough to resist her fury? The thought gave her pause. Perhaps he did, but he would soon realize his folly. He had underestimated her anger, her strength, her passion for vengeance. When she found him this time, she would drain him and destroy him without effort. Without regret. She had given him the Dark Gift of life, and she would take it from him.
Even as she ensnared another victim, she was aware of Grigori. He had not even bothered to leave the city but had simply gone home to that - that - wife of his. He was there now, waiting. Waiting for her. He did not seem particularly afraid, when he should be cowering from the wrath to come. From where had he found this sudden courage, this need to defy her?
Disposing of the last body, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out in a long shuddering sigh. She was ready now, impatient for the confrontation to come. Her eyes narrowed as she focused all her energy on Grigori.
He was not alone with Marisa.
The vampyre hunter was there, the one who had dared attack her. She lifted a hand to her face, assuring herself that no scars remained from the holy water he had splashed over her. She had already marked him for destruction, had believed she might have a difficult time finding him after he had felt her power. She smiled. They had joined forces, the vampyre hunter and the vampire, making it that much easier to find them both. Khira discounted Marisa's presence. The puny mortal was no threat. And it would be such a pleasure, poetic almost, to feed on Grigori's woman after the battle.
But where was Ramsey? She searched but could not find him or his woman. Had they left town? Or had Ramsey grown strong enough to conceal himself - and his little slut? She knew a momentary pang of regret. She had been drawn to Ramsey from the first, attracted to his cool facade and growing power. If she had concentrated more on him, perhaps he would be at her side now, aiding her against Grigori and the hunter, Duncan.
She dismissed the thought even as it formed. She had never been foolish enough to trust those of her own kind. She was a law unto herself.
Still, her inability to locate Ramsey troubled her.
No matter. She was full of power. She could feel it seething within her, her anger growing, feeding on itself. It was time. She would destroy them all: the vampire hunter, Edward and his fledgling, Marisa, Grigori... She closed her eyes, imagining a world without Grigori in it.
Why, Grigori? Why have you done this?
"I asked only for a year," she whispered. "A year out of our immortality to spend together again. And you promised!" Anger overcame sentiment. "You lied to me! Humiliated me!"
But it was more than that. He had wounded her pride by leaving her to go to another woman. A mortal woman. Her voice rose as her outrage flamed high once more. "You will pay for your folly," she vowed. "Before the night is out, you will have paid the ultimate price."
She felt a familiar sense of pleasure as she gathered her power around her. She embraced it, reveled in it, and then, with a wave of her hand, she went to make her final preparation for the battle to come.
"What if she doesn't come?" Marisa asked.
"She'll come," Grigori said. He sat back in the easy chair, looking calm. "Her pride will bring her."
Duncan was playing solitaire. He turned over a card, the ace of clubs. "Got all four aces up now," he said with satisfaction. "My only concern is, what if she goes after Ramsey first?"
"She can't find Ramsey. I can't. And I know where to look. Ramsey is our hole card. So to speak." Grigori smiled. "Your five of hearts can go up now."
"I've got a good feeling about this," Duncan remarked as he played the five. "Yessir, I think I'm going to win this hand."
"Let's just hope we win the battle."
They both seemed so calm, Marisa thought. Was she the only one who was afraid? She hated waiting, wondering, not knowing. Too nervous to sit still, she stood and began to pace the floor in front of the hearth, trying not to look at the sharpened wooden stakes lying in obscene innocence on one of the end tables. A finely engraved solid silver dagger with a triangular blade ending in a needle point lay next to them. Tools of the trade, Duncan had called them. He had two vials of water at his elbow. He didn't have to tell her what they were. She knew it was holy water. She shuddered at the memory of the damage it had done Khira's features, the way it had eaten into the vampire's flesh.
She fingered the thick silver chain around her neck. She had not worn silver since she met Grigori, but tonight he had insisted. She wore wide silver bracelets on her wrists, as well. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to face Khira. Coward that she was, she wanted only to leave town. But Grigori had refused. No matter where they went, Khira would hunt them down sooner or later. Better to end it now, he had said. And Ramsey and Duncan agreed with him. Khira had to be destroyed, and there was no one else to do it. When they had first discussed their plans, Grigori had told her there was no need for her to stay, but then he had changed his mind. Alone and unprotected, Marisa would draw Khira like a beacon on a dark night. Give her a hostage to use against him. Defeat him before he had a chance to fight.
"How long do we have to wait for her to act?" Marisa asked. "I hate waiting, not knowing..."
"It shouldn't be much longer," Grigori said. "I've felt her in my mind. She knows we are here, and that Duncan is with us. She suspects we are plotting against her. One of her revenants is watching the house even now."
Revenants. Marisa shuddered.
"She will be here," Grigori said, and went suddenly still.
"What is it?" Marisa touched the chain around her neck again. "Grigori..."
"Damn it, I should have expected this," Grigori said tensely. "Duncan! The front door..."
The rest of his words were drowned in a splintering crash as the front door exploded inward.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps, and two huge men burst into the room. Another followed. And another... and another.
They were all built like football linemen - tall and massive and muscular. They fanned out toward the room's occupants without a word. They moved fast enough, but in a disjointed shamble, mouths slack.
Their eyes were dead.
Marisa's stomach churned with fear. She ran across the room toward Grigori without thinking about the silver she wore - until she saw him flinch away. She ducked around behind him - far enough away so the silver would not weaken him.
By then, two of the revenants were on him, while two more closed in on Duncan. She couldn't see the vampire hunter past their bulky bodies.
They seized Grigori's arms. Marisa felt him gather his power, felt it crawl along her skin, lift the hairs at her nape.
With a savage cry of rage, Grigori broke free. He shoved one of the revenants away, and at the same time, he snatched the other to him, his hands folding over the creature's bulky shoulders in an obscene parody of a lover's embrace. Jerking the revenant's head down and to the side, he exposed its muscular, corded neck. The creature he had thrown off was shambling back to the fray, grunting furiously.
Grigori buried his fangs in his prey's neck and drank deep as the other one laid his hands on him and tried to pry him away from his kill.
Across the room, one of the creatures blocking her view of Duncan sagged suddenly and collapsed. Eyes glazed with the heat of battle, Duncan coolly planted his foot on its chest and withdrew a bloody stake. But before he could set himself to strike again, the second creature drove him to his knees with a clumsy roundhouse blow.
Marisa shrieked as a huge hairy arm circled her waist and lifted her off her feet. The grip tightened relentlessly, cutting off her breath.
"Grigori!" She gasped his name.
He flung his prey aside, spun out of the grasp of the second, and was at her side in the blink of an eye. She couldn't see what he was doing behind her, but the revenant's arm fell away and he dropped heavily to the floor.
Duncan was up again, struggling with one of the attackers. She scrambled toward the wall and turned, her mind reeling, her nostrils filling with the scent of blood.
A stake was raised in the air, the end dripping blood.
It took her what seemed like forever to realize it was not wielded by Duncan, but by one of the revenants. And that it was aimed at Grigori's back as he battled the creature who had seized her.
Shadows blurred across her vision, moving fast.
And suddenly Ramsey was there, his grip locked on the wrist of the revenant who held the stake. Kelly was there, too, struggling with the creature who had almost bested Duncan.
Marisa watched with horrified fascination as Ramsey looped his free arm around the revenant's neck and snapped it with one powerful stroke.
Kelly screamed as the monster she had attacked broke her left arm and hurled her to the floor. Ramsey immediately launched himself at the creature. Duncan grabbed a stake from the table and tossed it to Ramsey, who drove it through the revenant's heart.
The room stank of blood and fear and violent death.
The surviving revenants pressed their attack, utterly oblivious to the fate of their fellows.
And then, Khira was there.
Her triumphant laughter filled the room. "Sorry I'm late, children. I had to wait until Ramsey and his little trollop came out of hiding."
Like a whirlwind, she spun through them. A single blow sent Duncan flying across the room. He slammed into a wall and slid to the floor, boneless as a rag doll. A revenant turned and plodded toward him.
Khira backhanded Ramsey out of her path and grabbed Kelly. Snatching her upright, she curled her fingers into hooked claws and raked them down the girl's body, opening a great, gaping wound from shoulder to thigh. With a scream, Kelly collapsed to the floor.
Ramsey almost reached Khira, but she spun away, flying at Grigori. A revenant was bending over Kelly, a stake in his hamlike fist. Ramsey spared only a glance for Grigori before lifting the revenant high and breaking its back over his knee.
Khira stalked toward Grigori, her eyes blazing with the anger and jealousy of two hundred years. She waved her hand toward the table, and the remaining stakes went up in flame.
Whimpering softly, Kelly curled in on herself, her body lying in a pool of her own blood. Marisa wondered if Kelly, being a new vampire, possessed the resilience to overcome her wounds on her own. Ramsey fell to his knees beside Kelly, his face stricken. Over in the corner, Duncan and the last revenant wearily hammered at each like two tired prizefighters.
Marisa stood transfixed, unable to move. They were going to die, all of them.
Khira's gaze burned into Grigori. "Have you nothing to say to me?" she asked with a sneer. "No last words?"
Marisa wrapped her arms around herself. She was trembling all over from what she had seen, from what she knew was coming. She could feel Khira's power growing stronger by the moment, could feel it pushing against Grigori, could feel Grigori's power pushing back. He had fed well, but so had Khira. How many people had died this night to strengthen her? How many more would die when there was no one left to thwart her?
It was a silent, deadly battle. Khira reeled backward as Grigori's power pierced her own, but only for a moment. Slowly she lifted her arms, drew them together over her head, her eyes burning, burning, as she gathered all her power and focused it on Grigori.
He groaned low in his throat as pain engulfed him. "Ramsey..."
Khira whirled and waved her hand at Ramsey, who had started toward Grigori. Her power wrapped around him and flung him back against the wall. He lay there, trapped in the web of her power, unable to move.
And then she turned to Grigori once more. "It did not have to end like this," she said. Her power slashed at him like a whip, driving him to his knees. "And now, because of you, they will all die, your woman last of all."
"No." The word was torn from his throat.
"Yes. I will drain her of every drop. Think of that while you writhe in hell."
"Marisa..." He gasped her name as white-hot pain splintered through every fiber of his being.
Marisa stared at him, tears coursing down her cheeks. They had underestimated Khira's strength. All this time, she had been toying with them, playingwith them, letting them think they had a chance against her, but it no longer mattered, Marisa thought dully. If she was to die, so be it. Without Grigori, she had nothing to live for.
She glanced at Ramsey, helpless in the clutch of Khira's power, at Duncan, who seemed to be holding his own against the last revenant, at Kelly, lying in a pool of blood, at the dead creatures who had once been men, their lives destroyed because of Khira's jealousy. She looked at Grigori, writhing in agony because he was too fine and decent to run away and leave the city at Khira's mercy. And she was suddenly ashamed of her cowardice. People had died, were dying. Grigori was in agony. If she was to die, she would die fighting!
Before she realized what she was doing, before she had time to talk herself out of it, she grabbed the dagger from the table and plunged it to the hilt into Khira's back.
The vampire screamed, a high-pitched wail of pain and rage and disbelief that echoed off the walls and reechoed in Marisa's mind.
Slowly, so slowly, Khira turned, her face a mask of agony, her eyes ablaze with hatred. She stood there for stretched seconds, her power shrinking around her.
"You!" The word hissed from her lips.
Marisa took a step backward, but there was no need. The life went out of Khira like an extinguished flame and she fell slowly, gracefully to the floor.
There was a moment of complete and utter silence. And then, as if they had all been released from some sorcerer's spell, they all moved at once. Ramsey scooped Kelly into his arms and carried her to the sofa, murmuring that everything would be all right.
With a final uppercut, Duncan slammed his last antagonist back against the wall. The revenant went down, hard. Lips drawn back in a grimace, Duncan jerked a stake from the body of another revenant and plunged it into the heart of the creature lying at his feet.
Marisa knelt beside Grigori. "Are you all right?"
He started to slip his arm around her waist, then jerked his hand away. Marisa frowned at him and then, realizing the problem, she removed the silver she was wearing and tossed it aside. With a wry grin, Grigori slipped one arm around her waist and hugged her tight. She could feel him trembling as the last of Khira's power floated away like smoke in the wind.
"How's your hand?"
He lifted it and showed it to her. There was an ugly red welt where his skin had touched her bracelet. She pressed a kiss to his palm. "I'm sorry."
"Well," Duncan said, his voice filled with exuberance as he took in the destruction all around them. "We did it!"
Grigori stood up, drawing Marisa with him. "We didn't do a damn thing," he said, his gaze resting on Khira's body. "Three vampyres and a first-class hunter, and it was a mortal woman who brought Khira down."
Grigori looked at Marisa, his eyes shining with love. "My woman."
With Khira's death, all the furious energy and pounding fear bled out of the corpse-strewn room.
Marisa stared at the hilt of the dagger, protruding like a silver crucifix from Khira's back. She had thought she might faint when she felt the dagger pierce the vampire's flesh. Then she thought she might be violently ill. Her pulse raced; there was a pressure in her temples.
"Is she really dead?"
"Oh, yeah," Duncan said, grinning. "She's definitely dead."
Marisa shook her head, unable to believe she had done such a thing. A wave of relief, sickening in its intensity, swept over her, followed by disbelief. She had never, ever imagined herself capable of killing.
Grigori's arms enfolded her gently. A distant part of her mind noted that his usually powerful muscles were trembling weakly. His battle with Khira and the revenants had cost him dearly. She leaned into him, shaking all over.
"It had to be done, cara, "he murmured, reading her thoughts. "You saved my life. You saved us all."
On the couch, Ramsey huddled protectively over Kelly as she fed from his wrist. Remarkably, her broken arm had already mended; the horrible wounds on her slender body had stopped bleeding and were starting to close. But she was pale and weak. Ramsey's eyes were closed and his jaw set. Marisa realized that Kelly, in her need, could drain him.
She looked over at Duncan, who met her gaze and grinned.
"You did it," he said. "By damn, you did it!"
"We all did it," Marisa murmured. "And now I need you to do something."
"Sure, kid. I'll dispose of all this carrion; trust me." His gesture included the twisted bodies.
"Not that," Marisa said.
"Just tell me what you want," Duncan said. "And consider it done."
"Ramsey needs to feed."
Duncan stared at her. "What?"
"He needs blood to replace what he's giving Kelly. He's not strong enough to hunt."
"You want me to..." Duncan looked at Ramsey, then back at Marisa. "This is carrying friendship a little too far, don't you think?"
"No," Marisa said.
"Why can't you do it?" Duncan glanced at Grigori. "You're used to it."
She felt Grigori stir, and put a restraining arm on his trembling shoulder. "Yes," she agreed calmly, "I am. But Grigori needs to feed, too. You have no idea what it cost him to hold Khira at bay until I could... could..."
"Okay, okay, you convinced me," Duncan grumbled. But he picked up a vial of holy water as he moved toward the couch.
Ramsey opened his eyes to watch him come. His eyes darkened with alarm. Grigori tensed.
"Relax," the vampire hunter said. "A little insurance, that's all. Friend or no friend, you aren't turning me into a damned bloodsucker." He sat down on the sofa, his expression wary. "But you owe me big-time for this, Ed, and don't you forget it."
Marisa tugged on Grigori's arm. "Let's go upstairs."
He followed her up the stairs and into their bedroom without argument and closed and locked the door behind them.
Marisa looked at him, one brow raised.
"Duncan's still a vampyre hunter," he explained quietly. "Ramsey may be willing to put his life in Duncan's hands, but I'm not."
"You don't think Duncan would try to..."
"I don't know, but I'm not willing to risk it." He caressed her cheek, his dark eyes smoldering. "I need you, cara," he murmured.
"I know, love." She sat down on the bed, her head tilted to the side to give him access to her neck. "Take what you need."
He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "Not just your blood now, cara mia, but all of you. Your heart, your soul. Your indomitable spirit." His gaze burned into hers. "Your love."
"You already have them, Grigori. You know that."
"And will you join your life with mine?" he asked, his voice thick with need and longing. "Forever?"
She knew what he was asking. She thought briefly of all she would be giving up, then looked deep into his eyes and thought of all she would be gaining. They had faced life, and violent death, together. From this night forward - no, from the night she had first met him - she had known that her life was forever, irrevocably destined to be entwined with his.
"Yes, Grigori, it's time."
"You are sure, cara?"
"I'm sure," she replied, and meant it with every fiber of her being. "I love you."
"As I love you." His hands clutched her shoulders and he rose over her, his dark eyes glowing. "Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you."
She closed her eyes, her heart pounding, not with fear but anticipation, as he drew her into his embrace. She felt a brief, sharp prick, followed by a rush of pleasure as she gave her heart and soul into his keeping.