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Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Adrianna cowered against the door, her heart pounding, her breath coming in ragged gasps. What had happened out there? One minute he had been kissing her until she was drowning in ecstacy, and the next he was ordering her to her room as if she were a naughty child.
For a moment, she held her breath, her ears straining for some sound from the other room. Nothing. Adrenalin pumping, she began to pace the floor. Never in all her life had she heard a voice like that, felt such menace. Try as she might, she could find no explanation for his peculiar behavior, and as the minutes ticked by, she began to wonder if she hadn't overreacted, or perhaps imagined the whole thing.
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Twenty minutes had passed.
On silent feet, she crossed the floor, turned the lock, and opened the door. "Navarre?"
He didn't answer, but his name seemed to hover in the air, repeating itself over and over again.Navarre, Navarre, Navarre ...
She took a cautious step down the hallway, her heart beating in triple time as she paused to listen, but all she heard was the pounding of her own heart, and the steady drip of the rain.
Her throat was dry, her palms damp, when she reached the doorway to the living room. "Navarre?"
She glanced around the room, then checked the kitchen and the den. He was gone.
The breath she'd been holding escaped in a long sigh. She didn't know if it was disappointment or relief.
She moved through the house, double-checking to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, wondering at her sudden compulsion to check them yet a third time. Moreno Bay was a small town. Nothing ever happened there. There was no crime to speak of. Until the incident reported on TV that night, the last offense of any note had occurred when Milt Evans got drunk and drove his pickup through the front window of Mavis Harper's Dress shop.
Still, as she drew the shade over the kitchen window, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something evil was lurking outside in the shadows.
Navarre stood on the balcony of Cliff House, his hands clenched at his sides, his face turned up to the sky. He closed his eyes as the cold rain pelted his face and chest.
For the first time in years, he wished he had the right to pray, to plead with a loving God to protect Adrianna, to keep her safe. From himself.
He should leave there, he thought, leave tonight while the memory of what he had almost done was still fresh in his mind. But all he could think of was how good it had been to hold her in his arms, the way her hands had felt as they caressed him. For the first time in centuries he had felt loved, cared for. For one brief moment, he had dared to hope that he could spend time with Adrianna without destroying her.
Besides, he couldn't leave town, not until he learned who, or what, had attacked the woman in the alley.
He stood there until dawn, oblivious to the cold and the rain, his thoughts turned inward. Eons ago he had resigned himself to what he was. He had learned to appreciate his supernatural powers, to enjoy the increased physical strength, the constant good health. He didn't age. He was never sick. He had traveled the world time and time again. And when he grew weary of living, when the loneliness grew too great, he had only to go to ground for a decade or a century, and when he surfaced, the world was new again, fresh again. Perhaps he should go to ground now and sleep away the years of her life.
Heedless of the passing hours, he stood there, gazing in the direction of Adrianna's house, picturing her asleep in the bed that had once been his, imagining a lifestyle he had never known.
The rain stopped with the coming of the dawn, and still he stood on the balcony, staring at the rainbow that stretched across the sky. He watched the sun rise, a brilliant burst of color that painted the horizon with vivid slashes of ocher and crimson.
With a sigh, he turned away and went into the house. Feeling drained of all hope, he changed into a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Barefooted, he wandered through the house. He took a deep breath, and the faint floral scent of Adrianna's perfume filled his nostrils.
Adrianna...
And even as her image rose in his mind, he sensed her presence, heard her knock at the door.
He swore under his breath, wondering what madness had brought her there.
"Navarre? Navarre! Open the door. I know you're in there."
Angry that she had dared to seek him out, he stalked to the door and flung it open.
Adrianna took a step back, alarmed by the rage that glittered in his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I..." She took another step backward, then straightened her shoulders and stood firm. "I had to see you."
"Go home, Adrianna. You're not safe here. You're not safe with me."
"Why?" She gazed up at him, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tell me what's wrong. What have I done?"
"Done?" He groaned deep in his throat. "You've done nothing. Please, Annie, please go home where you belong."
Her concern for her own safety dissolved when she heard the anguish in his voice, saw the pain in his eyes.
"Please tell me what's wrong," she urged. "Let me help you."
"You can't help me. No one can." He stared past her, judging the time, knowing he would have to seek his rest soon.
"I'm not leaving, Navarre. Whether you want to admit it or not, there's something special between us, something I don't want to lose." She laid her hand on his forearm, felt his muscle flex and tighten at her touch. "I'm falling in love with you."
"No!"
It wasn't the reaction she had hoped for. She had expected him to be surprised, perhaps disbelieving, since they had known each other such a short time. A part of her had hoped he would be happy, that he would sweep her into his arms and tell her that he loved her, too.
But there was no joy in his expression, only a soul-deep misery. She felt suddenly foolish and a little embarrassed. She'd never thrown herself at a man before, never realized how devastating unrequited love could be.
She stared up at him, wanting to run away, to crawl into a hole and hide, but she seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the way she'd felt in his arms the night before, the way he'd held her and kissed her.
"What happened last night?" she asked. "Just tell me that, and I'll go away and never bother you again."
"Come in," he said, and turned away without waiting to see if she followed him or not.
A shiver crept up her spine as she entered the house. As usual, all the drapes were drawn and the interior of the house was dark and cool.
She followed Navarre into the front parlor and sat down on the edge of an Early American sofa, her hands folded in her lap.
Navarre stood at the hearth with his back to her. "I'm going to tell you something you probably won't believe," he said, still not facing her. "And then I want you to leave. No questions asked."
Hardly daring to breathe, she waited for him to go on.
He could feel her watching him, and he stared into the fireplace, wondering how to tell her what he was. Should he just blurt it out? Or should he let her see him as he really was?
"Navarre?"
"Do you believe in the supernatural, Adrianna?"
"The supernatural? You mean like ESP and psychic phenomena, stuff like that?"
Slowly, he shook his head, and then he turned around to face her. "I'm not like you," he said flatly. "I'm not mortal."
She started to laugh at the absurdity of what he was saying, but then she looked into his eyes, and in their fathomless depths, she saw that he was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth.
"I was born almost two thousand years ago, on a small island off the coast of Greece." He lifted his hand in a broad gesture that encompassed the house and its contents. "All this furniture, the bed you bought, is mine, collected over hundreds of lifetimes."
"No." She shook her head. "That's impossible."
"Sometimes I wish it was."
"So you're trying to tell me you're immortal?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true nonetheless."
"You want me to believe you've lived for almost two thousand years?''
"I'm not alive, Adrianna. I've been dead for close to two thousand years."
One of them was insane, she thought, not certain which of them it was. Him for speaking such nonsense, or her for listening, and almost believing.
"Why are you doing this?" She fisted the tears from her eyes. "If you don't want to see me again, just say so! You don't have to make up some outrageous lie!"
"I'm not lying. Look at me, Adrianna."
Reluctantly, she met his gaze, felt the blood in her veins turn to ice as his eyes took on an eerie red glow and his lips drew back, exposing two long teeth that could only be called fangs.
"Now do you believe?"
"It can't be. There's no such thing as... as a..."
"I believe vampire is the word you're looking for, and I can assure you, they do exist."
She blinked, and he was beside her, his hand closing on her arm. She felt the steel-like strength of his grip, the coolness of his skin, as he guided her into the next room.
A muscle throbbed in his jaw as he placed her in front of a large oval mirror, then stood beside her and removed the cloth that had covered the surface.
Adrianna stared at her reflection, hardly recognizing the face that stared back at her, her eyes wide and afraid, her lips parted as she drew in a shaky breath.
Navarre cast no reflection at all.
"But... but it's daylight, and you're awake." She shook her head, her mind refusing to believe what she knew to be true. "I saw you eat... we walked on the beach..."
She turned to look at him, then glanced at the mirror again, and all the color drained from her face.
He watched her expression turn to one of horror and disbelief, and then, with a wordless cry, she fainted.
He caught her in his arms, held her effortlessly to his chest. He would hold her for just a minute, he thought, then take her outside and put her in her car. He glanced around the room, knowing he dared not stay at Cliff House any longer. If he left now, he would have time to find a place to go to ground before the heat of the sun became unbearable.
But one minute stretched into two, and then three, and still he held her close, his heart aching at the thought of never seeing her again. Would she betray him, now that she knew what he was? And if she did, who would believe her?
Thunder rumbled across the sky. A jagged bolt of lightning ripped through the clouds. He couldn't leave her in her car, not in this storm.
Instead, he carried her upstairs and put her to bed in his bed. Unable to help himself, he lay down beside her and gathered her into his arms. He would hold her close a few minutes more, and then he would leave.
But the sun stayed hidden in the clouds, giving him a reprieve, and he continued to hold her, his gaze never leaving her face.
"Forgive me," he murmured. "I never meant to cause you pain."
She stirred at the sound of his voice. He watched her eyelids flutter open, saw the confusion in her eyes turn to fear when she looked at him.
"Tell me it isn't true."
"I wish I could."
"Are you... Did you... ?" She licked her lips, then raised a trembling hand to the side of her neck.
"You're fine, Adrianna. You fainted, that's all."
She looked up at him through eyes filled with terror. It was an expression he had seen on countless faces when the one he had chosen to drink from realized what he was.
"What are you going to do to me?"
Fear. He could smell it on her. It sickened him that he was the cause of it. "Nothing."
He brushed a wisp of hair from her brow, a muscle flexing in his jaw when she recoiled from his touch.
Slowly and deliberately, he put her from him and stood up. "You can stay here until the rain stops," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Where?"
"I need to find a place to spend the day."
She glanced around the room. It was large, but sparsely furnished, containing only a large dresser, a chest of black lacquer, and the bed. "I thought vampires slept in coffins."
"Some do," he said, his voice gruff. "I don't care for it."
He saw the questions in her eyes, the doubts that lingered even in the face of reality. "Good-bye, Adrianna."
The words were soft, and final. He was leaving, and she knew that if she let him go, she would never see him again.
She watched him turn away. Now she understood the loneliness she had so often seen in his eyes, heard in his voice. She had a sudden, inexplicable need to hold him, to comfort him.
He opened the door, and she saw him hesitate, take a deep breath, and then take the first step that would carry him away from her forever.
"Navarre! Wait!" Jumping out of bed, she ran after him. "Wait! Please wait!"
He stiffened as he felt her arms wrap around his waist, felt the warmth of her body pressing against his back.
"Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."
"Annie, you don't know what you're saying."
"I don't care what you are. I don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go." The words came from deep within, as if they'd been dredged from the very bottom of his soul.
"Then don't go." She dragged him around to face her. "I love you. I've never loved anyone before."
He shook his head, amused and amazed by the woman standing before him. "Annie, my sweet Annie, don't you know you're not safe here, not safe with me?"
"I don't care."
"I care."
"You've never hurt me before."
"I wouldn't hurt you now, not intentionally." He sighed, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. "Do you know the story of the rattlesnake who offered to carry a rabbit across a river?"
She shook her head.
"The rabbit said no, because he was afraid the snake would eat him, but the snake promised he wouldn't, and the rabbit believed him. When they reached the other side of the river, the snake bit the rabbit. 'Why?' the rabbit asked. 'You promised!' 'I couldn't help it' the rattler explained with a smile. 'I'm a snake'."
Navarre's eyes begged for her understanding. "I'm a vampire, Annie. And sometimes, even after all these years, the hunger is stronger than I am."
"Tell me to leave, then." She looked up at him through wide blue eyes filled with love and trust. "Tell me you never want to see me again, and I won't bother you any more."
He opened his mouth, but his tongue refused to obey his mind's command. "I can't. Heaven help me, I can't send you out of my life."
He glanced at the window. Even though boards covered the window, he knew the clouds had passed, knew the sun was high in the sky, as a familiar heaviness began to steal over him.
"Go home, Annie. I'll come to you tonight."
Fighting the lethargy creeping over him, he stood in the doorway staring after her. Never before had he taken his rest in a place known to another. Never, in the near two thousand years of his existence, had he trusted anyone, male or female, mortal or vampire, to know where he passed the hours of the day.
It grieved him to think she might betray him, but he knew it was possible. Once she was away from him, once she'd had time to think about what he'd told her, there was always a chance she would decide he was a danger to her, a danger to the town. Given time to think, she might come to the conclusion that he was evil and should be destroyed. And though he wasn't totally helpless during the hours of daylight, he was still weak, still at his most vulnerable.
With a sigh, he closed and bolted the door, then settled back on his bed, knowing that if Annie betrayed him, nothing else would matter anyway.
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