so are you. I don't need a menu."
"No? Well, what'll it be?"
"Just a plate of spaghetti."
Tommy nodded as he wrote it down. "And a glass of chianti?"
"Right."
"You've got it."
Marisa sat back in the booth and looked out the window. Christmas music came over the speakers. Brightly colored Christmas lights adorned the storefronts across the street. Where had the year gone? She'd have to get busy and do some serious Christmas shopping soon. Buy some Christmas cards. Paper, tinsel...
"Hey, Marisa, why the long face?"
"Just tired, I guess."
"Well, enjoy your meal."
"Thanks, Tommy."
"Give a holler if you need anything."
"I will."
"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be eating alone."
Marisa was about to reply when a deep voice said, "I agree."
Glancing past Tommy, she saw Grigori standing in the aisle.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked.
"I guess not." She took a sip of her wine as he sat down across from her.
Tommy looked at Grigori. "Can I bring you anything tonight?"
"Just a glass of wine. Red. Very dry."
"Wine again," Tommy remarked with a shake of his head. "Don't you ever eat?"
"When necessary."
Tommy frowned, shook his head, and walked away from the table, muttering under his breath.
"It seems we've done this before," Grigori said.
Marisa nodded. It seemed like years had passed since that night instead of only weeks. So much had changed since then. Her whole world had been turned upside down.
"Where's Ramsey?"
"I sent him away."
"What do you mean?"
"I told him I didn't want a bodyguard anymore." She took a deep breath. "And I don't think you and I should see each other anymore, either."
Grigori stared at her, one black brow arching upward. "Indeed? May I ask why?"
She took another sip of wine, hoping it would calm her rapidly beating heart. "I'm beginning to feel claustrophobic."
"What of Alexi?"
"He's gone."
"Is he?"
"Isn't he?"
Grigori shrugged. "For the time being, it would seem so."
Tommy approached the table and placed a glass of dark red wine in front of Grigori. "Anything else I can get for either of you?"
Grigori shook his head, his gaze focused on Marisa.
"No, Tommy, thanks." She stared at her dinner, and then pushed the plate away, her appetite gone.
"Alexi will come back, you know."
"I'll worry about it when it happens. Until then, I don't want to think about vampires, or vampire hunters, or - "
"Or me?"
"Or you." Taking her wallet from her purse, she placed ten dollars on the table and stood up. "Good-bye, Grigori."
"I'll walk you home."
"It isn't necessary."
He watched her leave the restaurant, and then, with a sigh, he followed her out the door, careful to mask his presence. He paused when she reached her apartment, his senses probing the area, but he perceived no threat. He waited until she was safely inside, and then he made his way up the stairs. She might think the danger was past, that Alexi had given up, but Grigori knew better.
With a sigh, he sat down on the top stair and gazed out into the darkness. So she wanted to be rid of him, did she? He smiled at the stars, because he was not yet ready to be rid of her.
Chapter Twenty-three
Grigori rose before sunset the following evening. By the time he had showered and dressed, night had fallen. A phone call brought him the information he needed. A contrived explanation as to why he must see the property at night, the promise of a quick sale, and it was done.
He met the realtor a half hour later. He had already explored the house from cellar to attic, but he walked through it again with the agent, and then gave her a check for the down payment. The house hadn't been lived in for several years. The paperwork would take thirty days, and then it would be his.
He bid the realtor good night, shook her hand, and watched her drive away. When he was certain she was gone, he went back up to the house. A wave of his hand unlocked the front door.
It was an old two-story house, probably built at the turn of the century. The exterior paint, once a dark shade of green, was faded and peeling. The shutters, once white, looked gray.
It had the musty smell of a house long empty. The place needed a coat of paint inside and out, a new roof, new carpeting. The kitchen and bathroom needed remodeling, but none of those things were important. What mattered was that it was a house surrounded by a high brick wall. A house that stood alone on an acre of