I will restore your health, Gianni, and give you riches beyond your wildest dreams."
"Too late," he had moaned, the fear of dying rising up within him. "Too late."
"Not too late, cara mio," she had said. "Only give me your promise."
And because he had been in excruciating pain, because he had been terrified of dying, because he had wanted so very badly to marry Rosalia, he had agreed to do whatever Antonina wished.
As soon as he had given Antonina his vow, a change had come over her. All softness seemed to vanish from her face, and her eyes had glowed with a fierce and terrible light.
She had sat down beside him on the bed and drawn him into her embrace and kissed him. Her lips had been as cold as the grave, and when he tried to pull away, her arms had tightened around him and she had laughed softly, a dry sound, like old bones rattling.
Fear had shot through him and he had struggled harder to escape her, but in vain. His strength was as nothing compared to hers.
With ease, she had held him down, her body covering his as she kissed his eyelids, his cheek, his mouth, her lips gradually burning a path to the side of his neck.
He had gasped when he felt her teeth prick the skin, the sensation one of mingled pain and sensual pleasure. And then he had felt himself drowning, suffocating in darkness and fear. Her skin had grown warmer as his own grew cold, and he had known he was on the brink of death. His heartbeat had slowed, his breathing had grown shallow and labored, and he had been swallowed up in darkness, smothered in terror unlike anything he had ever known or imagined.
He had looked at her blankly, not comprehending, as she bit her own wrist and pressed it to his mouth.
As if from far away, he had heard her voice. "Drink, Giovanni."
He had been too weak to resist when she pressed her bleeding wrist to his mouth. "Drink, Giovanni," she had urged. Again.
He had obeyed because he lacked the will to do otherwise. And like a river at flood tide, life had flowed back into him, filling him. He had closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure as he drank and drank and drank.
When she took her wrist from his mouth, he had opened his eyes, intending to ask for more. But then he had seen Antonina hovering over him, her lips stained with blood, and he had known it was his blood.
He had stared at her in horror. "What have you done?"
She had smiled at him, and he had seen her teeth, the canines long and sharp.
"I have fulfilled my promise," she said. "I have restored your health, and given you wealth and power. You are now immortal, Giovanni Ognibene, and with immortality comes power, and the ability to gather the wealth of the world."
Rising, she had pulled a white silk handkerchief from her pocket and delicately wiped the blood, his blood, from her lips. He had shuddered with revulsion when she used that same handkerchief to wipe her blood from his mouth.
She had remained at his side while his body sloughed off the last of his humanity. His senses, now sharper than before, were bewildering, frightening. Colors had been brighter, the candlelight had hurt his eyes, the slightest sound had bruised his ears.
She had told him, in a voice devoid of emotion, that he must have blood to live, that food would sicken him, but he had refused to believe her.
With amusement, she had left the room, returning a short time later with a handful of succulent grapes. To prove her wrong, he had eaten them all. A moment later, pain had knifed through him and he had dropped to his knees, his stomach retching violently.
"It's almost dawn," she had said, her gaze darting to the window and back. "You can sleep with me today. Tomorrow night, you will fulfill your promise, and then you must find a place to rest. You must line your bed with the earth of your homeland, should you ever decide to leave Italy."
He had stared at her, uncomprehending.
"You are a creature of the night now," Antonina had explained. "You cannot die. Exposure to the sun will kill you. Holy water will burn your flesh. You cannot procreate, but you will live forever." She paused, her hand on a small wooden chest. "I promised you wealth, Giovanni, and here it is. Use it wisely."