Page 22 of Immortal Sins


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She stared at him, shocked to realize that not only had she been tempted to take a vampire to her bed, but that she had cut her tongue on one of his fangs.

"Karinna?"

"You didn't hurt me."

"What is it that troubles you?"

"Do you want the answers in alphabetical order?"

"You are upset." He looked genuinely confused "Why?"

"Why?" she exclaimed, fisting her hands on her hips. "Why do you think? You're a vampire!"

"Yes, I know," he replied dryly.

"Well?"

He shook his head. "Why is that a problem for you?"

"Because I...because you..." She stamped her foot in exasperation. "Because it is!"

His laughter added fuel to the fire of her indignation.

Kari pivoted on her heel and stomped into the kitchen, then stood there, at a loss as to what to do. When her stomach growled, she filled a pot with water for spaghetti and put it on the stove. The soup and sandwich she had eaten earlier hadn't filled her up. Besides, eating would give her something to do.

A subtle shift in the air told her that Rourke had followed her into the room.

"I guess you've had dinner," she muttered. Something warm and red and liquid.

"Yes."

She turned to face him, her curiosity overcoming her irritation. "How often do you have to...you know?"

"I take sustenance when I feel the need, the same as you."

"Hmm. And how often do you feel the need?"

"Every day or so, more often if I am injured, or if it has been a long time since I fed."

It occurred to her that he hadn't fed for three hundred years. Obviously, vampires didn't starve to death.

Fascinated by the turn of their conversation, Kari sat at the kitchen table. "What's it like, being a vampire?"

He leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, his brow furrowed as he sought for an answer. And then he shrugged. "I do not know how to explain it."

"In the movies, it seems that vampires spend all their time running about sucking people dry or making other vampires."

Rourke looked at her a moment, and then he laughed. He, too, had seen those movies on the television. "Perhaps there are vampires who live that way."

"So, are you one of them?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know," she replied flippantly. "That's why I'm asking."

"Before Vilnius, I lived a rather quiet life. I admit, when I was first made, I did my share of, how did you put it? Sucking people dry? But that soon passed." Once he had learned to control his hunger, he satisfied his craving by taking a little from two or three instead of draining one mortal dry. Since not all blood tasted the same, it gave him a bit of variety. Another advantage was that it left no bodies to dispose of, no mysterious deaths to arouse the suspicion of the local authorities.

"So, how did you spend your time?"

He shrugged. "In the beginning, I tried to maintain my associations with my old friends, but they soon questioned what they viewed as my suddenly peculiar behavior. They wanted to know where I went during the day and why I refused their invitations to go hunting or engage in other daytime activities. I made excuses, told them I had contracted a rare disease that made it impossible for me to go out during the day and severely restricted what I could eat."

"What about your family?"

"My father was killed in battle. My mother died soon after." He didn't mention Rissa, or how she had rejected him. He supposed he couldn't blame her, but he did.

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Four brothers. We were very close. When they started to notice that they were aging and I was not, I left home."

"That must have been hard for you."

He grunted softly. "It was a long time ago."

"I'm sorry." Relieved to have something to do, she added spaghetti to the boiling water and set the timer, then poured a jar of spaghetti sauce into another pot and put it on the stove.

Rourke watched curiously, thinking how much easier life was now than it had been over seven hundred years ago. In his time, there were no grocery stores, no malls. If a man wanted meat, he hunted it, or he raised it and butchered it. If a woman wanted a dress, she wove the cloth and made it herself. Books were rare, movies undreamed of.

He wrinkled his nose as the nauseating smell of garlic and oregano and tomatoes filled the air. Excusing himself, he left the room.

He wandered the length of her living room, pausing now and then to examine the odds and ends arranged on tables and shelves. She had a fondness for cats. Feline figures made of wood and stone and some hard material he didn't recognize crowded a wooden shelf. A picture of a fat black and white cat hung on one wall; a large ceramic cat sat on a corner of the hearth.

The clink of dishes and silverware drew his attention back to the kitchen, and the woman. He recalled the kisses they had shared and wondered where they might have led if her tongue hadn't brushed against his fangs and drawn blood. He cursed, quietly berating his inability to completely separate his hunger for blood from his desire. And desire her he did, with every fiber of his being. She was a woman unlike any he had ever known, strong yet vulnerable, feisty yet shy, and all female.

Sitting on the sofa, he picked up the remote and switched on the television, amazed anew at the images that flashed on the screen. Truly a magnificent invention, but his interest in it paled next to his hunger for the woman.

Perhaps, when Karinna finished her repast, he could persuade her to take up where they had left off.

Chapter 10

Kari picked at the food on her plate, her mind on Rourke, always Rourke. He was such an enigma and she had so many questions she wanted to ask him. How many people had an opportunity to find out what life had really been like 767 years ago, not by reading about it in books or researching it online, but by talking to someone who had actually lived it? Even more amazing than his age was the reality of what he was. A vampire. Not a movie villain. Not a creature of myth and legend. But a living, breathing vampire. Well, maybe not living. Still, it was incredible.

After carrying her dishes to the sink, she rinsed them off and put them into the dishwasher. She poured herself a cup of coffee, added cream and sugar, and carried it into the living room.

Her vampire--she rather liked the sound of that--was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, a quizzical expression on his face as he watched a football game.

He looked up as she entered the room. "This game makes no sense to me."

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