A Whisper of Eternity

Tracysat up, yawning. A glance at the clock showed that she had already slept most of the morning away. Dating a vampire certainly kept her up far later than she was accustomed to. By the time she showered and had breakfast, the day would be half gone! Not only that, but her laundry was piling up and she had bills to pay.



Rising, she went downstairs to put the coffee on,then hurried back upstairs for a quick shower. She pulled on a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top,then went downstairs to fix breakfast. Opening the refrigerator, she grimaced at what she saw. Not surprisingly, all of the food she had left in the fridge when she ran away had soured, wilted, or turned blue with mold.



After dumping it all in the garbage and washing out the refrigerator, she grabbed her purse and her keys and headed for the village.



Driving down the main street, she noticed anew how deserted the place was. Funny, she had never paid much attention to that before. Many of the shops didn't open until after sundown. She saw a few tourists peering into windows. An elderly couple sat at a table at the outdoor cafe, sipping lattes.



Tracypulled into the parking lot of the market and got out of her car. Did the townspeople know that their town was a haven for vampires? Or were they as happily ignorant of the fact as she had been only days ago?



Grabbing a cart, she wandered up and down the aisles, filling her basket with whatever caught her fancy. It occurred to her that few of the items she bought would have even been in existence when Dominic was mortal - things like frozen dinners, ice cream, milk in cartons, meat in neat little packages, food in cans, sliced bread, dry cereal, candy bars. Did he ever wonder what modern-day food tasted like?



As she watched the clerk total up her purchases,Tracy decided that, judging by the amount of chocolate she had bought, she was definitely feeling anxious. Dark chocolate had ever been her comfort food of choice.



She was on her way to her car when she heardBryan call her name. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder to see him hurrying toward her.



"Hey, where've you been?" he asked. "I've been worried sick."



"I was on a little... umm,holiday , I guess you could say."



He frowned at her as he helped her put her groceries in the trunk."Holiday? Where'd you go?"



"Maine."



"Oh. Well, I wish you'd let me know. I thought maybe that madman had abducted you or something."



Tracygrinned. That was exactly what had happened, but she couldn't tellBryan that. "Well, not to worry. I'm back now. How've you been, otherwise?"



"Fine."He closed the trunk. "I was really worried about you. Have you read the paper lately? Three people were found dead last week, with no apparent cause of death except they'd all lost a lot of blood. There were no signs of violence, and no signs of a struggle. The police are stumped. One of the reporters said it sounded like some kind of vampire killing."Bryan frowned at her. "Tracy? Hey, Trace, are you okay? You look as pale as a ghost."



"I'm fine. I... it's just hard to believe something like that could happen here." Even as she said the words, she thought it was surprising that there hadn't been more murders in the village, considering that the place was crawling with vampires. She recalled Dominic telling her that vampires didn't hunt where they lived. Obviously, he had been wrong about that.



"Can you come down to the beach later?"Bryan asked. "I've missed you."



"I'll try."



"Great." Leaning forward, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "See ya later."



She watched him walk away, thinking how refreshing it was to be in his company. He was so open, so honest. There was nothing dark and mysterious aboutBryan .



With a sigh, she slid behind the wheel and drove home.



The mailman had come in her absence. After putting the groceries away, she sat down at her desk to read the mail and pay her bills.



The first letter was from Mr. Petersen, who repeated that he was immensely pleased with her work and enclosed a nice check as a down payment for the remaining seascapes. He also mentioned that he would like her to do a portrait of him and his children as a Christmas gift for his wife and that he would send her a photograph to work from, if that was feasible. If not, he would arrange a date and time to be at her studio with his children.



Tracysmiled as she picked up the phone to call Mr. Petersen. This was exactly the kind of break she needed. Mrs. Petersen was a wealthy woman, influential in her community. If she were pleased with the portrait of her family, she would no doubt tell all her friends. You couldn't beat word-of-mouth advertising!



Later, after the bills were paid,Tracy went upstairs to her studio. The seascape she had started inMaine had been set up near the window.



She painted for over an hour. Lost in the act of creation, she forgot everything else but the feel of the brush in her hand as she added shading and depth to the canvas. She loved the smell of the paint, the sense of fulfillment and satisfaction that engulfed her as she transferred the image in her mind to the canvas.



Stepping back, she regarded her work through a critical eye, and then nodded. One sent. One more finished.Only another ten to go.



After cleaning her brushes, she prepared a new canvas and then, on the spur of the moment, decided to take a break.



Going downstairs, she grabbed an apple from the fridge and went down to the beach.



Bryanwas sitting on his lifeguard tower.



"Hey, there," she called. "Can I come up?"



He smiled down at her. "Sure."



She climbed the ladder,then sat down beside him. "So, rescued anyone today?"



"Not yet.Pretty quiet." He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. "I guess you've been painting."



"Yeah.Guess I should have looked in the mirror before I left the house."



"Well, it's pink. People will just think you're sunburned."



"Right."



"So, what did you do inMaine ?"



"I was visiting a friend."



"You left kind of suddenly, didn't you?"



"Kind of."



"School will be starting soon," he remarked. "I sure hate to see summer end."



"Me, too."She gazed out at the ocean. There was something almost hypnotic about watching the waves. She had always loved the ocean. Endless and deep, sometimes calm, sometimes wild with energy, a vast, ever-changing sea that was home to thousands of creatures from tiny sea horses to gentle whales and man-eating sharks.



"Are you busy tonight?"Bryan asked.



"Yes, I'm afraid so."



"Are you seeing him?" There was no mistaking the hard edge of jealousy inBryan 's voice.



"Yes."



"He's no good for you. Why do you insist on going out with that man? There's something about him. Something not right."



"Oh,Bryan ."



"Don't patronize me. Just because you're older doesn't mean you're wiser."



"I didn't say that, but Dominic's a good man."



Bryansnorted derisively.



"Maybe I'd better go."



"No!" He laid a restraining hand on her arm. "I'm sorry."



"It's okay. But I really should go. I've got work to do."



"You're not mad, are you?"



"No, of course not.See ya later."



Back home, she poured herself a glass of milk, then went upstairs. Glass in hand, she regarded the blank canvas, then, setting the glass aside, she mixed her colors and began to paint.



She had fully intended to start on another seascape; instead, her brush strokes sketched a tall man wandering through a moonlit garden.A man who stood beneath a lamp post and cast no shadow on the ground.



Intent upon her task, she paid no attention to the time as she carefully applied each brush stroke. His face, pale in a wash of silver moonlight, was harsh and yet beautiful. His eyes, dark and shadowed, were filled with the secrets of eternity. His mouth was well-shaped and sensual, with just a hint of a roguish grin. A long black cloak fell in graceful folds from broad shoulders. It was by far the best thing she had ever done. There was carefully leashed power in every line.



Stepping away from the canvas, she studied the portrait wrought by her hands and her heart. "Perfect," she murmured, laying her brush aside."Absolutely perfect."



"You flatter me."



She whirled around, startled by the sound of his voice.



"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you."



She glanced at the window, surprised to see that the sun was setting. "I didn't realize it was so late."



He drew her into his arms, stared at the painting over the top of her head. Again, she had captured him on canvas and he studied the image intently.



"Do you like it?" she asked.



"Very much.Is this how you see me?"



"Yes."



"And is this how I appear?Or merely an artist's interpretation? "



She looked up at him. "Both, I guess," she replied, and then frowned. "Is it true you can't see yourself in a mirror?"



"Yes."



"If I took your picture, would it come out?"



"No."



"So you haven't seen your face in over two thousand years." She shook her head. "That's incredible."



He jerked his head toward the painting. "This is better than a mirror," he said with a wry grin, "though I doubt I ever looked quite so handsome in mortality."



She glanced over her shoulder at the canvas. "It's how I see you."



He cupped her cheek in his hand. "I believe love has colored your perception," he murmured, and lowering his head, he kissed her.



She clung to him as he deepened the kiss, caught up in a maelstrom of emotion. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw colors brighter than ever before. She imagined she could feel each thread that made up the fabric of his clothing. It seemed as though she could feel each particle of air around her. She caught the scent of rain, and even as awareness crossed her mind, she heard the dull roar of thunder, the patter of drops against the window.



Overwhelmed, she drew back to stare up into Dominic's eyes.



He answered her question before she could ask.



"You are feeling what I feel," he said quietly."Seeing things as I see them."



"But why?"



"I have taken your blood. Not enough to bind us together, but enough that, if I open my senses, you can see and experience a part of my feelings."



Well, that was a scary thought! "What would happen if I had takenyour blood?"



"We would be forever bound. My thoughts would be yours, as yours would be mine."



"You mean you'd be able to read my mind?"



"I can do that now."



"But if we were bonded, I'd be your slave, wouldn't I, like that woman is Marcus's slave?"



"No, my best beloved one.It would be nothing like that."



She took a step away from him, suddenly frightened. "I don't believe you."



"There are many ways a vampire can possess a mortal," he said calmly, as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. "Ways to compel mortals to obey."



"Is that what Marcus did to that girl?"



"No. She went to him of her own free will."



"But he could have made her do it against her will?"



"Yes."



"And you could do that to me?"



Watching her carefully, he nodded. He was on dangerous ground here. A wrong word now might frighten her away.



"Why haven't you?"



"Because I do not want a slave."



"Have you ever forced anyone else to do your bidding?"



"Of course.Each time I feed."



She wrapped her arms over her breasts. "So you hypnotize them and force them to give you their blood?"



"I speak to their minds to take away their fear. It is not unpleasant for them, and when it is over, I wipe all memory of it from their minds."



"That's despicable!"



"Would you rather I took them by force and drained them of life?"



"Of course not, but..."



"I am what I am, querida . I cannot change my nature, not even for you, nor would I. I have been vampire far longer than I was human. I have survived thousands of years. I have learned patience. I have learned compassion. I have learned to take what I need without taking life. It has not been easy. Vampires are predatory by nature. The need to hunt is a part of me and will not be denied. There are those who hunt in the old way, who take a life each night. No longer human themselves, they have little regard for human life. I will not tolerate their kind here."



"Is that right? Have you read the paper lately?Bryan told me that three people have been killed in the last couple of days.Drained of blood."



Dominic's eyes narrowed. "You have seen that boy again?"



Tracydismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "Did you hear what I said? Three people have been killed, Dominic.If you don't allow any of the Sea Cliff vampires to hunt in your territory, then who's doing it?"



Dominic shook his head. "I was not aware of any killings." It troubled him to realize he had been unaware that someone was hunting in his territory. His only excuse was that he had been so preoccupied withTracy he had been oblivious to everything else.



"Well,"Tracy remarked a trifle sharply, "maybe you should look into it before there's a fourth."



With a nod, he was gone.



Tracystared at the place where he had been standing, wondering if she would ever grow accustomed to his ability to vanish in the blink of an eye, wondering if she truly wanted to.