Read The Taste of Magic Online

Authors: Gina Rosavin

The Taste of Magic (21 page)

BOOK: The Taste of Magic
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He shook his head. "No, that is not all. There is much more."

 

"Such as?"

 

"The bond that now exists between us cannot be broken unless one of us dies."

 

Her eyes widened as she realized he'd spoken to her silently. Using his mind. And she could feel him there, feel his thoughts and emotions as if they were her own. A warmth rose, filling her with a sense of comfort and safety.

 

"I can…hear you. In here." She tapped her forehead.

 

He nodded. "A benefit of what we shared last night. I can now direct my thoughts to you, if I choose."

 

She shook her head to shed the remaining wisps of sleep still clouding her brain. The warmth was so comforting, but what did this mean? What else happened when he fed from her?

 

"But…I thought you said I wouldn't be turned…from just the one time."

 

He smiled, a patient, understanding smile that brightened his whole face. "You're not. For that, there must be a blood exchange." He drew her near when she shuddered, burying his face in her hair.

 

"Adrian, I need to know exactly what happens now between us."

 

He set her away, and brushed her hair from her neck and shoulder. The simple touch sent tendrils of longing spiraling through her.

 

"We share a bond, a connection which comes from my drinking your blood. I can use our connection to communicate with you, even from a great distance."

 

Not only could he read her thoughts, he could talk to her now. Her fingers clenched in the blankets as implications of this development began to form.

 

"What else can you do with your mind?" She had to know, even though she feared his answer.

 

"What are you asking me, Kat?" His eyes darkened, his mouth set in a grim line.

 

"Can you…control me?" she whispered. She nibbled on her lip as she met his gaze. The one thing she feared most was being unable to think for herself. She'd rather be dead than little more than a zombie. He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, she found affection and tenderness in his gaze. It eased her worry. A little.

 

"I can, should I choose to, exert a measure of control. But not very much, as you are not a vampire. I can only suggest certain things. You would be compelled to act on those suggestions, depending on how strong they are, but you will be able to resist. Though I've heard that can cause a headache."

 

She stared at him, horrified. "How do you know?"

 

He smiled. "Vining has studied the phenomena. You really should ask him. But no, Katerina, I cannot compel you to do anything you truly do not wish to do. Were you my fledgling, however, I could command you and you would be unable to resist at all."

 

She didn't like where this was going, yet she couldn't help asking. "Wh- what's a fledgling?"

 

"A newly created vampire. After the transformation is complete, new vampires are too vulnerable to be on their own. Their creator, or master, must see to training them. And protecting them."

 

"But I'm not…"

 

He shook his head. "No. I promised you. I will keep my word."

 

She nodded, satisfied she was still her own person. She tried to sit up, but was still so tired, she simply collapsed against the pillows.

 

"You need to recover your strength," Adrian said and helped her to sit. He strode across the room and carried back a tray. "I had something sent up. Freshly squeezed orange juice, a muffin, and an omelet. I'm told this will help you recuperate."

 

Katerina's stomach rumbled in response to the aromas, and she took the glass of juice from him. The cool, sweet liquid instantly soothed her parched mouth and throat, and she already felt better.

 

"Adrian?"

 

"More questions?" He sat beside her, breaking off a piece of muffin and spreading butter on it before handing it to her.

 

"Sorry. We didn't get much of a chance to really talk…last night." She flushed as images of the night before flashed in her mind, like disjointed scenes from a movie.

 

"What do you want to know?"

 

"Can we carry on a whole conversation? I mean, without actually speaking? Even if we're not in the same room?"

 

He smiled. Even if we're not in the same country.

 

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't think I like that.

 

"It's not a continuous connection, the link is not constant. It requires effort to create and maintain."

 

"But you did it so easily."

 

"I've had a long time to perfect my talents."

 

She shook her head, half-amused at his confidence in himself. It was part of what made him so intriguing, even if he could be egotistical and self-important at times. "What else should I be aware of?"

 

He shook his head. "You may have a sensitivity to sunlight for a few days. It will fade in time."

 

She swallowed nervously. "But you don't have any problems with sunlight."

 

"I am very old, my dear. I can withstand many things not all of my kind can. It takes decades before a fledgling can endure a full day in direct sunlight."

 

Which only multiplied the questions in her head. But only one she had to know the answer to now. One she hadn't asked before, not wanting to know. "How old are you, exactly?"

 

"I was born in the first century, before the decline of the Roman Empire"

 

She gasped. "That's two thousand years ago!"

 

He nodded. "Yes. Does my being an 'older man' bother you?" He smiled playfully, and her apprehension melted away.

 

"You and I both know you don't appear to be a day over forty." "

 

An advantage to my lifestyle."

 

"Which brings me back to where we started. Anything else I should know?"

 

"No. Other than that, nothing has changed between us." He paused, his gaze deepening meaningfully. "Or should I say, quite a bit has changed?"

 

She looked away, knowing the moment had come. She'd stalled as long as she could, but now she had to come clean.

 

"I have…I… damn it, this is so hard."

 

"You're a witch."

 

She nodded. "I have…powers."

 

"You did a fine job last night, fending off Machiavelli and Sophie. I was quite impressed."

 

She hated it when he spoke to her in the business-like tone of voice. He always became more condescending, especially when he…hid something. She narrowed her eyes.

 

"You don't seem surprised by all this."

 

"Katerina, your parents are witches. It stands to reason…" He shrugged.

 

"Maybe so, but now that I think about it, you weren't very surprised last night."

 

He looked away, refilling her glass with juice.

 

"Adrian? Did you know I had dormant powers?"

 

He hesitated for several seconds, seconds which lasted an eternity. Then he nodded, and pierced her with his clear gaze.

 

"Yes. I knew."

 

Everything seemed to stop. She suddenly couldn't breathe as every moment between them over the last few months now came to her with sudden clarity. Anger renewed her strength and she rose to her knees. "That's what you wanted all along, isn't it? You wanted my magic. Not me, just what I could do for you! You bastard!"

 

She swung her arm, but he caught her wrist and jerked her against him. The breakfast tray and its contents crashed to the floor.

 

"Don't." The single word was enough to quiet her. "Those who have dared did not live long." His harsh whisper was more terrifying than any bellow he could make. His eyes were tinged with gold, she could smell his anger. She remained motionless, suddenly frightened of what he might do. As if he sensed her fear, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, they were blue and clear.

 

"I want you, Kat. Only you. The magic is nothing to me, not without you."

 

She didn't know what to say. A million fragmented thoughts whirled in her head, but she couldn't grab onto any one of them. Her desperate need to believe him warred with the inner voice that screamed he could never be trusted.

 

"I don't know what to think. All I know is I have to get out of here." Keeping her voice steady was a struggle. She held his gaze, not attempting to break free of his grip, remaining still until he finally released her and turned away with a low growl. She wrapped a sheet around her as she stood and gathered some clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. She closed the door and slumped to the floor against it, deep sobs shaking her shoulders.

 

Adrian remained motionless, listening to her cries. He ached to go to her, to hold her and comfort her. He resisted the need to reach out with his mind and tell her how much she meant to him. He'd told her already. If she wouldn't accept his word, he wasn't going to beg her to stay. At the same time, he closed his connection to her thoughts, knowing listening to her would undermine his determination.

 

The thought of her leaving filled him with an unfamiliar emptiness. But he wouldn't stop her. Force was not the way, he knew that now. He wanted her willing, or not at all.

 

The door opened, but he refused to meet her gaze. She said nothing as she stepped around the room and gathered some of her personal belongings. And slipped out, without a backward glance.

 

He knew the moment she'd gone, sensed her departure as she moved further away. He opened his mind to her, and was assailed with a riot of emotion. Her anguish touched him as strongly as if she still stood beside him. How he longed to hold her, to ease her sorrow, to lessen the impression of betrayal she held.

 

But he couldn't. She was gone. For now. She would be back by the week's end. Yet, as Adrian stared at the mess of the room, the turmoil of Kat's raw emotions still reached him, and the earlier emptiness grew.

 

Angrily shutting down their connection once more, he paced, lifting a crystal vase from the dresser and hurling it against the wall. The shattering glass broke the silence, and it spurred his fury. With a bellow of rage, he picked up a porcelain sculpture, and it followed the path of the vase. He yanked the mirror from the wall, sending it crashing to the floor. Letting his rage overpower him, he was a whirlwind of violence as he tore apart the room.

 

When he finished, he stood in the center of the ruins, chest heaving from his exertions. Suddenly tired, he threw himself upon the bed. But the pillows still held Kat's exotic scent, and he could no longer keep his anguish inside. An inhuman howl reverberated about the mountain.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Katerina let herself into the flat and slammed the door behind her. The rooms were chilled, and she set about turning up the heat and opening the curtains. Anything to keep her mind from dwelling on the pain threatening to burst forth and choke her. She managed to keep any further tears at bay, but knew it wasn't long before they would break free.

 

After hearing the heat click on, she went to the kitchen to make some coffee. The sharp aroma soon filled the air, and she pulled a mug from the cabinet. A knock at the door made her spin about and the cup flew out of her fingers, shattering on the floor. She stared at it, until the knocking began again, louder and more insistent. She swallowed and moved slowly toward the door. Had he come after her?

 

"Katerina?" Her mother. She heaved a sigh of relief and pulled open the door.

 

"Mama. Stefan? What are you two doing here?"

 

Stefan stood behind Olga, his dark gaze piercing her. Lines of worry creased Olga's face, and Katerina motioned them in.

 

"How is du Lac?" Olga asked, going to the kitchen and starting to clean up the shattered mug.

 

"Mama, how did you know I was here?" Katerina asked.

 

"I sensed something was amiss. Your mother knew this was where you'd be." Stefan took Katerina's hands and studied them. "You are in pain."

 

Katerina arched an eyebrow. "You can tell that from my hands?"

 

Stefan shook his head. "No, I can feel your sadness. You've been betrayed."

 

Olga stood quickly and stepped closer to Katerina. She turned her daughter's head, exposing the two tiny puncture wounds on Katerina's neck.

 

"No! Katerina, tell me you did not…"

 

Katerina pushed away from their clinging hands. "No, I'm not a vampire. But I let him…"

 

"How could you? Katerina, don't you know the danger of such a foolish thing?" Stefan shouted.

 

"Don't yell at me! I know damn well. I did what needed to be done. To help Adrian. He was weak, and in order to get well, he would have had to leave me. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want him to be alone."

 

"You let him drink from you. Do you know what that means? Now that he knows your powers are freed…."

 

Katerina shrugged. "He already knew."

 

"How did he find out?" Olga took Katerina's arm and led her to the couch. "Tell me what happened."

 

"You know Machiavelli…kidnapped me. When Adrian came to save me, I had to use my powers. So we could defeat Machiavelli."

BOOK: The Taste of Magic
12.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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