and sweatshirt into a pair of white slacks and a short-sleeved blue sweater.
She had just finished putting on her lipstick when she heard a knock at the door.
Smoothing a hand over her hair, she took a deep breath and went to the door. She looked through the peephole to make sure it was Grigori before unlocking the door.
"Hi, come on in."
She stepped back, acutely aware of him as he stepped into the room.
He was wearing black, and she thought she had never seen a man who wore the color so well. But then, all vampires wore black, didn't they? His hair fell past his shoulders. Long and dark, it seemed to emphasize the planes and angles of his face. All he needed was a long black cape, she mused, then shook the thought aside.
With a smile and a flourish, he offered her a bottle of merlot.
"Thank you. Would you care for a glass now?"
"Please."
We're so formal, she mused. Going into the kitchen, she took two glasses from the cupboard. He stood in the doorway, watching her pour the wine. She handed him one of the goblets, wondering if her smile looked as forced as it felt.
"What shall we drink to?" he asked.
"I don't know. Is a toast necessary?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps not." With a slight nod in her direction, he took a drink. "An excellent vintage," he mused.
Marisa took a sip. It was good, far better than she was accustomed to. "Shall we sit down?"
She went into the living room, aware of him behind her, following her. His nearness sent a shiver down her spine.
She sat down on the sofa and sipped her drink.
He sat beside her, close, but not too close, yet she was aware of every line of his body, every breath he took. Never before had she been so aware of another person. Even sitting down, he seemed to tower over her.
Grigori drank his wine slowly, savoring the taste as he savored the woman's nearness. She was lovely. And nervous. He could sense the tension radiating from her. He sat back on the sofa, one arm draped along the top edge, as he glanced around the room. His gaze flickered over the newspaper on the coffee table.
VAMPIRE KILLER STALKS CITY. BODY FOUND IN DUMPSTER.
Grigori frowned as he quickly scanned the story, which was very short and filled with speculation. This was the eighth body that had been found drained of blood. The press, with its usual flair for the overly dramatic, had labeled the murderer "the vampire killer" because it made good headlines, Grigori mused. If they only knew...
"What do you make of that?" Marisa asked, gesturing at the newspaper with her wineglass.
Grigori shrugged. "The noble press," he said with an easy smile. "Surely you don't believe all that nonsense about a bloodthirsty vampire terrorizing the city?"
"No, but..."
"But what?"
"Well, it's kind of scary. I mean, the body of the supposed vampire disappeared from the carnival, and then the owner was found dead. And now someone's going around killing people and draining their blood."
She thought of Silvano. She had met him only once, but it was the first time someone she had known had been brutally killed. It made it seem personal somehow.
"I know it's probably another serial killer, but - " She shivered. "It gives me the creeps."
"You'll be safe enough if you stay inside after dark."
"You're the second one who's told me that today."
"Oh?" He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing.
"Would you like some more wine?"
Grigori nodded.
Marisa took his glass and stood up, and he followed her into the kitchen.
Resting one shoulder against the doorjamb, Grigori watched her move around the small room. The walls were white, the cabinets of light oak. A small round table and two chairs sat in one corner. There was a green plant in a red clay pot in the center of the table. Cheerful yellow curtains hung at the single window.
"Who else told you to stay inside?"
"I don't know who he was. Some nut named Ramsey."
"What, exactly, did he say?"
"What difference does it make? I told you, he was just some nut."
She handed him one of the goblets, then went into the living room and sat down on the sofa again.
"Tell me, Marisa."
His voice was soft, powerful, compelling.
"He was waiting for me when I got home from work. He said Alexi Kristov was following me and that I shouldn't go out after dark." She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound, and none in her eyes.