when he had planted his thoughts in her mind. She tried to connect her thoughts to his, and failed. And then, as if he had opened a door, she heard his voice inside her head.
"You can do it, cara," he said, and his thoughts blazed a trail for her to follow.
"What am I thinking, cara mia?"
"That we should go to Italy again."
He smiled. "You see? You can do it."
"And all because you gave me a little of your blood." She traced the line of his mouth with her fingertip. "Didn't the idea of drinking blood repulse you when you first became a vampire?"
"No. Once the change took place, I craved it as a drunkard craves wine. It was sweet on my tongue, sweeter than anything I had ever tasted."
In the beginning, when the Hunger controlled him, when he feared he would never get enough to satisfy the craving, he had taken more than he needed, and in so doing, had taken lives as well. Eventually, he had learned to take less and thus spare the lives of those he used. The lives of those he had needlessly killed haunted him still.
"Cara..."
"Am I heavy?"
"No." He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. He could feel the darkness creeping over him, dragging him toward oblivion. "I fear I must rest a little longer."
"All right." She kissed him, then slid out of bed. Gathering her clothes, she went into the bathroom and shut the door.
When she emerged, showered and dressed twenty minutes later, he was asleep.
She spent the afternoon at the mall. It was fun to wander from shop to shop, knowing she didn't have to check the price tags, that she could buy whatever caught her fancy. She bought two lamps and a painting for the living room, a new dress for herself, a black jacket for Grigori, a couple of compact discs for Mike Junior, a Gone With the Wind Barbie for Nikki, a baby doll for Mindy, a teddy bear for Danny. She bought a blue negligee for Barbara, and a black one for herself, picked up a sweater for Mike. She bought a couple of John Wayne videos for her father, a new bathrobe for her mother.
"Christmas in January," she mused as she stowed her packages in the trunk of the Corvette. "I could get used to this."
It was rather nice to be a lady of leisure, to sleep late, to make love to her husband in the afternoon.
Her husband, the vampire. The thought made her grin. She imagined going to lunch with Linda and casually dropping that bit of news into the conversation.
Sliding behind the wheel, she switched on the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, wondering if Linda would believe her, or think she had gone completely insane. The latter, most likely. Still, there were people who believed in vampires. There were fan magazines and web sites, all dedicated to the undead. People showed up on talk shows, claiming to be vampires. She had always thought they were just a bunch of bizarre people looking for their fifteen minutes of fame, but now... maybe they really were vampires. Maybe the world was full of the undead. And if vampires existed, maybe there really were aliens and werewolves. Maybe all the creatures of myth and legend actually existed.
It was almost five when she pulled into the driveway of the house. Collecting her packages from the trunk, she paused a moment and studied the house, noticing, for the first time, that it looked a lot like the gloomy old houses Dracula haunted in the movies. Perhaps a paint job would brighten the place up, make it look less like a haunted house and more like a home. She stared at the peeling green paint, trying to imagine what the house would look like painted Dutch blue with white trim. The front yard was overgrown with weeds. Maybe tomorrow she'd buy some gardening tools and get to work. Or maybe she'd just hire someone to do it for her. Going up the front walk, she thought that she'd like to plant roses in the front yard, and maybe put some fruit trees out back.
Filled with plans for redecorating, she walked up the porch steps. She slid the key in the lock, but before she turned it, the door whooshed open.
She stood poised on the threshold, wondering if she should go inside, or turn and run. "Grigori?"
She took a step inside, ears straining. "Grigori?"
She heard nothing, sensed nothing.