"Will you show me?"
"If you wish." There was no harm in it now. He would never sleep there again. Setting her on her feet, he took her by the hand. "Come."
He led her out of the parlor and up the stairs. Like most old castles, this one had a number of hidden doors, passageways, and bolt-holes. About halfway up the staircase, he stopped and pressed his hand against the wall. A portion of the wall slid back, revealing a yawning maw of darkness.
"Do you still want to see it?" he asked.
She nodded.
He had to admire his warrior woman's courage. He knew she wasn't as calm as she appeared. Her palms were suddenly damp; he could hear the rapid beat of her heart.
Still holding her by the hand, he led her down a narrow, winding staircase into a darkness that was blacker than black.
Vickie didn't know how he did it, but suddenly a dozen candles sprang to life and she saw that she was in a small oval room. The floor and the walls were made of gray stone. There was nothing in the room save for the candles and an oversized coffin with the lid raised.
Antonio released her hand and stepped away, his face carefully impassive as he waited for her reaction.
Vicki stared at the sleek ebony wood, the pristine white silk that lined the inside. Try as she might, she couldn't hide the revulsion in her voice. She was sure it showed on her face, too, but she couldn't help it. "Do you like this part of it, too?"
"It is just a place to rest," he replied quietly. "Nothing more."
"Couldn't you rest just as well in a bed?"
He shrugged. "I have, in the past."
"Then why…?" She gestured at the casket, unable to believe anyone would willingly choose to sleep in such a thing.
"It serves to remind me of what I am."
She turned to face him. "Why on earth would you need reminding?"
"It is a quirk of mine, nothing more." He held out his hand. "Come, let us go."
He didn't have to ask her twice. She was more than willing to put this place behind her.
Climbing the stairs, she wondered if he had agreed to show it to her in hopes of making her see why they could not have a life together.
"You must be hungry," he remarked when they returned to the parlor.
She was, now that he mentioned it.
"Go and fix yourself something to eat."
"Come with me?"
He shook his head.
"Why not? What are you going to do?"
"Nothing sinister, my sweet. I will wait for you in the back parlor."
"You won't go out, you promise?"
"Am I to be a prisoner in my own house?" he asked, a fine edge to his voice.
"No, of course not." She turned away, stung by his tone. She couldn't help it if she was worried about him. Couldn't he understand that?
" Victoria, I did not mean to offend you."
"Go on, go outside, do whatever you want. I don't care."
He laughed softly. One minute she was a warrior woman, fighting demons to save him, and the next she was like a child, her feelings easily hurt.
"I will not leave the house," he said. "I promise."
Keeping her back to him, she nodded.
His hands on her shoulders kept her from leaving the room. "Ah, Victoria," he murmured with a shake of his head. "What a treasure you are."
She blinked back sudden unexpected tears at the warmth and the wonder in his voice.
He chuckled softly as her stomach growled in a very unladylike way. "Go and eat. We will talk later."
With a nod, she left the room.
Antonio stared after her, admiring the sway of her hips, until she was out of sight.
Feeling as though he were six thousand years old, he made his way to the back parlor, sat down, and closed his eyes. Pain. He was only free of it when the daylight sleep was upon him. It burned through him now like a living flame.
He had thought to leave Victoria when Falco had been destroyed. Now, he wondered how he was ever going to let her go. In six hundred years, he had never needed anyone the way he needed her. It wasn't just her blood he craved, sweet as it was; no, he craved her company, the sound of her laughter, the touch of her hand, the way she melted against him when she should have run away, screaming in fear. He still couldn't believe she had come to rescue him, didn't want to think what would have happened to her if she had failed. How could he let her go?
How could he not? He had seen the look of utter revulsion on her face when she saw where he slept. Though she might think she loved him, he knew that would soon change. No mortal woman could long endure sharing a vampire's life. No mortal woman should have to. It was a life against nature, beyond mortal endurance. Even vampires had been known to seek their own destruction when their existence became more than they could bear.
He thought of Edward Ramsey. The knowledge that the world's most formidable vampire hunter had been turned had spread quickly through the vampire community.
And there had been much rejoicing, he recalled with a faint grin. It was said that Ramsey had taken a vampire wife.
His Victoria, a vampire.
He frowned, unable to imagine her as such. Some souls were made for darkness and some for light, and she was a creature of light and laughter, a woman made to love one man, to bear his children, to grow old at his side.
He shook the thought from his mind. To think of her with another man would surely drive him mad. Until Falco was destroyed, she was his. For now, he would not think beyond that.
Her scent reached his nostrils. Moments later, she entered the room.
He knew she was standing in front of him before he opened his eyes, knew from the wary expression on her face that his hunger showed in his eyes.
"Do you need to…?" She licked her lips nervously. "You know?"
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Frequent feeding would help his wounds to heal more quickly. But it wasn't only that. Her very nearness aroused his hunger.
Already, his fangs were lengthening in response.
He clenched his hands to keep from reaching for her. "I can go out."
With a shake of her head, she sat down beside him, as trusting as a kitten.
His arm went around her shoulders. He brushed a lock of hair aside to expose her neck.
So warm, so willing. He closed his eyes, fighting for control, thinking how easy it would be to take it all. If it was anyone but Victoria … He pushed the thought from his mind. In spite of his words to the contrary, he wasn't like Falco, had never been like Falco.
Lowering his head, he took what he needed, what he craved.
What he feared he would never be able to live without now that he'd had a taste of it.