Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(92)

Pressing his lips to her wrist, she managed to get a mouthful into him, and after a moment, his slack muscles tensed then quivered. Her breath came out in short pants as she realized just how close he’d come to death. The foolish man had let her drain him, and she wanted to both choke and kiss him as he groaned and rubbed his mouth.

“You taste like merlot.”

Befuddled by his unexpected comment, she licked her wrist to seal the wound then did the same with his before saying, “Are you all right?”

“You must have been really hungry,” he murmured.

She flushed, so stuffed with his blood that she felt almost human. “I haven’t eaten in two weeks.”

He tried to frown at her, but his eyes were smiling. “Two weeks? Why so long?”

Shrugging, she played with her hair and considered that thought. Why hadn’t she fed? She was staying with Sargon, and he had a house full of blood donors who would kill to be hers for the evening. Yet she wanted none of them. “I wasn’t in the mood.”

That wasn’t exactly the truth. She’d been in the mood, but it didn’t seem like she could find anyone she wanted to be with. Unease moved through her as she tried to think further back, but she kept coming up with fuzzy memories. Her last clear memory was of coming to Dallas to visit Sargon and celebrate her independence, being finally recognized as what surmounted to an adult among the vampire nation.

Tyler picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing skin that would never wrinkle, never mark, never change.

The thought was depressing.

“I’ve been in Italy for the last two weeks,” he said and shifted so he was lying on his side, facing her with his semi-hard cock providing a rather delicious distraction. “Didn’t mean to be away that long, but it was harder than I’d anticipated to hunt down the painting I wanted.”

Eager to think about something other than her empty life after death, she smiled at him then stroked the side of his face. “What did you buy?”

An unexpected sorrow filled his gaze, and she would have sworn it was directed at her, but she had no idea why he’d be sad for her. “A beautiful mystery I’ve been trying to solve.”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed then sat up and kissed her softly on the lips. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you, and moonlight is burning.”

“Moonlight is burning” was a saying among the vampires, and she gave Tyler a suspicious look. “You seem to know an awful lot about vampires.”

“Only vampire I really know is you, Lisabetta.” He gave her a small smile.

He slipped on his jeans but left the top button undone. Instead of allowing her to wear her dress, he pulled out one of his T-shirts from his dresser and slid it over her head. The hem reached mid-thigh, and she couldn’t help a little feminine thrill going through her at how much she liked wearing his shirt. They went back downstairs, then he led her through a spacious kitchen and dining room before they arrived at a living room that seemed strangely familiar. Almost like she could have found her way here without having ever been in the home before tonight.

Tyler gestured toward the large, dark gray leather couch near the fireplace. “Have a seat.”

He strode across the room and came back with a large square shape draped in black cloth. After placing it on the table before her, he gave her a look that she couldn’t decipher. Standing before her with his shirt off, his well-muscled body flexing as he fidgeted, he made her fingers itch to touch him. She gave him a flirty smile, visions of riding him on this couch filling her, but he didn’t return it.

Tyler ran his hand through his hair and began to pace. “Before you look at it, I want you to promise me you won’t run away.”

“What?”

She stared at him in confusion while he continued to pace, growing more agitated. “Just promise me. Your word, Lisabetta. You’ll let me explain before you run.”

Irritated by his crazy behavior, she snapped out, “Fine, I promise.”





Chapter Three


With little fanfare, Tyler pulled the cloth off the picture, and her world came crashing down around her as she thought she might throw up for the first time in over five hundred years.

Her whole body trembled as she took in the portrait that had led to her death and, more importantly, the death of her husband and child.

It was a of her during her mortal life done in vibrant oil colors. She was dressed in her bridal gown, a beautiful lemon yellow silk creation that her father had made for her as part of her dowry. Small pearls dotted along the bodice, and more pearls were strung through her upswept dark hair. Ruby drop earrings dangled from her ears, and happiness seemed to radiate from her. And why wouldn’t it? She was marrying into minor royalty. Even better, she was marrying the man she’d love since the moment she’d seen him. She was looking directly at the viewer, and Lisabetta stared at the younger version of herself, looking physically almost the same, but her eyes… Dear God, her eyes back then were so joyful. Melancholy pain tore at her, and she pressed a hand to her heart. She could remember her sister making faces at her as her portrait was painted, trying to get Lisabetta to smile while the artist had told her to keep her face “serene.”

The years peeled back in her mind, and she remembered how much her body had ached from having to sit in one position for so long. The artist was about three-fourths of the way done with her portrait before her fiancé put a halt to it after he saw how stiff it made her. He was always looking out for her, the young lord with dark eyes that seemed to stare into her soul. The same eyes their infant daughter had. A hint of that smile had made it onto her lips in the portrait, and Lisabetta wanted to go back in time and shake that silly girl, to tell her to enjoy the bliss of being a newlywed because all too soon her world would become nothing but blood and death and pain.