a nod, Edward slipped out into the darkness.
Grigori stared after him a moment, and then closed the door. He took a deep breath, a little fearful of facing Marisa after what had happened.
She stared at him, at the horrible burns on his neck. The silver had burned through his shirt; she could see a dark smudge on his chest where the metal had burned his skin.
"Is there... is there anything I can do?" Her voice was faint, unsteady.
He shook his head, quietly cursing Edward Ramsey. Damn the man. His timing could not have been worse.
On legs that trembled, Marisa went into the living room and dropped onto the sofa. She wanted to pour herself a glass of wine, but her hands were shaking so badly, she didn't think she could manage without spilling it.
Uncertain as to what he should say or do, Grigori filled her glass with wine and placed it in her hand. "Drink."
She took several sips, then sat back and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. It was over. Grigori was still alive. Edward was still alive.
"Marisa..."
She stared up at him, mute.
"Do you want me to go?"
"I don't know."
"You knew what I was. What I am."
Oh, yes, she knew, but in the last few days, she had managed to shove reality into a distant corner of her mind. He'd been so kind, so attentive. She had never dated a man who treated her with such tenderness, such respect, who listened so attentively to what she had to say, who valued her opinions, who needed her love so much. She had never known a man like this man, and he was not a man at all.
It wasn't going to work, Grigory realized. She would never see him as anything other than a monster, and why should she? To her, that was what he was. He had been a fool to think she could love him, accept him. A fool to think he could make any kind of life with a mortal woman.
He drew in a deep breath, held it for stretched seconds, then released it on a sigh. It was time to stop kidding himself, time to remember who and what he was. Time to go home, back to Tuscany, where he belonged.
"Good-bye, Marisa."
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing.
There had been something final in the tone of his voice, as if he meant good-bye forever and not just for the night.
She stood up. The thought that she might never see him again overrode her doubts. "Where are you going?"
"Home."
"I'm never going to see you again, am I?"
"No." He slid his finger under her chin. Tilting her head back, he brushed his lips across hers. "Be happy, cara. Find yourself a nice young man. Someone who can give you lots of children." His knuckles caressed her cheek. "Someone who can grow old beside you."
He turned, and she knew that in moments he would be gone from her sight, gone from her life.
"Grigori! Wait! Don't leave me."
"It's for the best."
"No, no, it's not. Please." She couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice, feeling his touch. Tears welled in her eyes, trickled down her cheeks. She dashed them away with the back of her hand. "Please, don't go."
"Ah, Marisa," he murmured, "do not weep. I cannot abide your tears."
"I love you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. I don't care that you're a... a vampire."
"Don't you?"
She shook her head.
"Cara." Slowly, he folded her into his arms. "Cara."
"Are you upset because I didn't want to make love?"
"Marisa mia, you are so young, so innocent."
"I'm not young. And I'm not that innocent."
"Compared to me, you are a child." He kissed the top of her head. "Ah, Marisa, if all I wanted was your body, I could have taken you at any time."
"Then why are you leaving me?"
"Because what happened tonight made me realize this will never work. You may love me, cara, but I doubt you will ever be able to accept me for what I am. And I cannot change that, mi amore, not even for you."
"I can, I will! Promise me you won't leave." She blinked up at him through her tears. "You were going to be my date for New Year's Eve."
He felt his resolve weaken as he gazed down at her. How could he leave her? In two hundred years, he had told no one what he was, found no one he dared trust with the truth of