his senses into the night, testing the air, searching for the presence of mortals. When he was certain he was alone, he emerged from the earth, burrowing upward until his head and shoulders were clear. Exerting even that little bit of energy left him feeling drained. Never before had he lost so much blood, or felt so weak, so vulnerable.
Closing his eyes, he delved deep inside himself, gathering what strength he had left. With an effort, he gained his feet, and then he began walking. Thoughts flashed through his mind like the changing colors of a kaleidoscope.
He needed sustenance.... Where was Alexi?... Was Antoinette dead?... Where was Marisa?
The hunger's dark need spread through him, clawing at his vitals, until his whole body ached with it.
As weak as he was, he still moved with greater speed than a mere mortal. A short time later, he stood outside the house he had once shared with Antoinette. Ramsey and Marisa were inside. He could sense their warmth, hear their beating hearts. The hunger fought for control, urging him to go into the house and take what he needed, to drink and drink until the deep, empty well of his need was filled.
He stood hidden in the darkness, a part of the night, death cloaked in the guise of a man. Stood there, his hands clenched, his nails digging into his palms, until he was in control, and then he opened the door.
Ramsey saw him first. Clutching his cross, Ramsey leaped to his feet. Like a warrior priest, he planted himself in front of Marisa. He held the crucifix in one fist, and raised his other hand, the one with the cross tattooed on the palm.
"Edward, what are you doing?"
"Protecting you," Ramsey replied curtly. "Look at him, Marisa! Look at him and see what he really is."
Marisa leaned a little to her right, peering around Edward. Grigori stood in the doorway, a vision from a nightmare. Bits of dirt clung to his hair and clothing; his skin was as pale as a shroud; his dark eyes burned like the fires of an unforgiving hell. His left cheek was still blackened where Antoinette's crucifix had burned him.
"Get out of here, Chiavari," Ramsey said.
"I can't. I need your help."
"It isn't help you need. It's blood. Go find it somewhere else. We have nothing for you here."
"Edward - " Marisa stood up.
"Stay back!"
"I won't hurt her," Grigori said wearily. "Or you."
"Yeah, right." Edward took a step backward, keeping himself between Marisa and the vampire. "Get out of here."
"You seem to forget, Ramsey, this is my house," Grigori replied, a faint note of amusement evident in his tone.
"Edward, he needs our help."
"Dammit, Marisa, look at him!"
"Yes, Marisa," Grigori said. "Look at me." His voice was low and deep, as it had been the first night she met him. An angel's voice, she had thought then. "Come to me."
She met his gaze, felt his voice wrap around her like a fine, silken web, felt herself being inexplicably drawn toward him.
Grigori held out his hand. "Come to me, cara."
"No!" Edward grabbed Marisa by the arm, but she twisted out of his grasp and darted toward Grigori, who quickly enfolded her in his embrace.
"Leave her alone, dammit!"
"Ramsey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt her."
Edward backed up until his legs bumped into the bench. Then, without looking back, he reached for one of the wooden stakes he had fashioned earlier.
"You don't need that," Grigori remarked.
"Like hell."
"Ramsey, listen to me. I will not take her blood unless she's willing."
Edward snorted. "Look at her! She's already under your spell."
"I will release her. If she refuses me, I will go elsewhere."
Edward's hand tightened around the stake. "I don't believe you."
Grigori cupped Marisa's chin in his palm. "Marisa?"
She looked up at him, and he broke the bond between them.
"Marisa, I need your help."
"What?" Confused, she looked over her shoulder at Edward. She didn't remember moving. How had she gotten here?
"Marisa?"
"What happened?" she asked, frowning. "How did I get here?"
"I summoned you."
She shook her head, bewildered. "I don't remember."
"He can control you now," Edward explained.
"Make you do things you don't want to do."
She looked up at Grigori. "Is that true?"
Grigori nodded.
"Because you took my blood. You did, didn't you? Alexi said so."
"I'm sorry, but it was necessary."
"Why?"
"I'll explain it all later. Right now, I need blood."
She knew what he was asking. Wondered why he was asking. Moments ago, she had been in his power. Why hadn't he just taken what he wanted? she wondered