be a pile of ashes. And so would you."
She considered that a moment, hoping he was right. "I'm going to get up now," she said.
Bryanstared at her a moment, then a flush rose in his cheeks."Oh, sure. I'll see you downstairs." He made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.
Rising, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt a little light-headed, a little unsteady on her feet, but, other than that, seemed to have no ill effects from last night.
She took a quick shower,then made her way downstairs.
She foundBryan sitting at the table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee clutched in his hands. He looked up as she entered the room. "There's fresh coffee in the pot."
"Thanks." She poured herself a cup,then sat down across from him. "Do you have to work today?"
"Yeah.I start at one. Will you be all right?"
"I'm fine - don't worry about me. Just remember, don't stay out after dark."
"That's good advice for both of us," he reminded her.
"Are you hungry?"
"I fixed myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich earlier - hope you don't mind."
"Of course not."
Bryandrummed his fingers on the edge of the table. "So, what do you think happened to him last night?"
" Petrinaand some of the other vampires attacked him. I'm not sure why. Revenge, I guess."
"Well, I hope she's dead." Finishing his coffee,Bryan carried his cup to the sink and rinsed it out. "I need to go home and change. I'll call you later, okay?"
Tracynodded.
AfterBryan left, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and a slice of buttered toast, poured a second cup of coffee, and sat down at the table again. She ate as though she hadn't eaten in days and when she was done, she was still hungry. She fixed another piece of toast and slathered it with jelly. And then, unable to stand it any longer, she went outside and followed the path to his lair.
She put her hand on the door. It was cold to her touch. "Dominic? Are you down there?"
Her voice penetrated the black sea of pain and lethargy that held him fast. He yearned to answer her, to give her the reassurance she craved, but he was too weak to reply, too weary in mind and body to summon the energy to unlock the door.
Last night, too weak to call on his preternatural powers, he had been forced to drag himself inch by agonizingly slow inch through the night. He could have taken refuge in an abandoned building that he passed, could have tried burrowing into the earth to avoid the rising sun, but he'd had only one thought in mind - to reachTracy , to see her one last time before he succumbed to the pain of his burns and the weakness that grew worse with every passing moment.
With the heat of the rising sun searing his flesh, he had pulled himself up the stairs to her front porch. Feeling like a pilgrim who had finally reachedMecca , he collapsed against the door and with his last ounce ofstrength, he had spoken to her mind.
She had taken him to her bed, nourished him with her blood, and then fallen asleep. Knowing the sun would soon flood herroom, he had made his way down to his lair and collapsed on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Now, utterly exhausted, helpless as a newborn babe, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the dark peace of oblivion.
She stood there for several minutes, hoping to hear his voice, hoping the door would open, but nothing happened. For a second there, she had imagined she felt something, but then it was gone.
Discouraged and afraid, she went back to the house.
Needing something to occupy her time, she went up to her studio to work on another seascape for Mr. Petersen.
And all the while she wondered where Dominic had gone and if he was all right.
She worked relentlessly. She finished one painting and started a second. Her seascapes were usually light and bright, mild waves beneath bright blue skies, sometimes with dolphins or killer whales cavorting in the background. Today, her oceans were dark, filled with storm-tossed whitecaps and leaden skies ripped apart by jagged bolts of lightning.
Standing back to study her work,Tracy realized she was somehow tuned in to Dominic's pain, that she was painting what he was feeling. She had never realized that vampires could feel pain. Being undead, she had assumed they were immune to pain, and even as the thought