“I believe so,” Yuri said. “But . . .”
Marcus waited for him to finish.
“We can’t . . .” Yuri wasn’t sure what drove him to continue. “I can’t touch her.”
“When she leaned against you at the meeting, it looked as though you could feel her.”
“I feel a tingling sensation,” Yuri told him. “But I can’t touch her skin. Can’t feel the weight of her against me.” And how he longed to.
Marcus sighed. “I’m sorry. I was going to say that sucks, but that just doesn’t cover it, does it?”
“Not even close.”
Marcus considered him, features thoughtful. “She was a gifted one when she lived, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what her gift was?”
“She had psychometric abilities, could see the history of an object when she touched it. Still can, actually.”
“Oh.” Marcus’s brow furrowed. “That’s too bad. I was hoping she might’ve been a telepath or a dream walker. Then perhaps she could’ve visited you in your dreams.” He smiled wryly. “Sex can be very real in dreams.”
Yuri hadn’t even thought of that.
“I’ll let you know what I learn at the network as soon as I return,” Marcus promised, again preparing to leave. “And, Yuri?”
“Yes?”
“If I had to choose between a woman who shared my love, but whom I couldn’t touch, and a woman I could touch, but who meant little to me . . . I’d choose the woman I loved every time.” Opening the door, he stepped out into the hallway, then closed it behind him.
Two long days and nights passed without Yuri catching so much as a glimpse of Catherine. Had whatever Zach had done that night banished her forever?
Marcus had not seen her at network headquarters. Nor had he seen her here at David’s.
Ami’s pregnancy had progressed far enough and was becoming so difficult that Marcus had stopped hunting entirely to remain close to her. And, sympathetic to Yuri’s plight, Marcus had been keeping an eye out for Cat while Yuri was out hunting.
Several times, Yuri had wanted to seek Seth and David’s counsel. But both elders were exhausted from pouring healing energy into both Lisette, who had still not awakened from her coma, and Ami to help her carry her baby to term. And as much as Yuri loved Cat, he couldn’t bring himself to ask either elder to cease tending the living so they could help him locate a spirit.
Yet.
In truth, Yuri wasn’t sure what he would do if Cat remained absent much longer.
Growing ever more desperate, Yuri had gone to the infirmary that afternoon to ask Zach what he had done to Cat, to ask him if he could reverse it and bring her back. But Zach had rendered himself unconscious pouring too much healing energy into Lisette in an attempt to wake her, his hand clutching Lisette’s to his chest, his head resting on the bed beside her.
Despair rising, Yuri let the conversation of the immortals gathered together in David’s living room flow over and around him without paying it much heed. He slumped in his favorite wingback chair with his boots propped on a coffee table scarred from years of other boots doing the same. Yuri knew his somber silence worried Dmitry, but had no desire to explain himself.
Marcus and Ami sat on a sofa catercorner to him. The pair had had a difficult day. Ami had begun experiencing contractions again, and Seth had had to use his healing gift to stop the premature labor.
Everyone else present, like Yuri, had made it through another night’s hunt without incident. None had encountered any of the new skilled vamps. None had been seriously injured or tranqed. All had resolved to sleep at David’s place until Lisette awoke.
Yuri found himself wondering if the gun drawn by that big vampire he had fought the first night he’d spoken to Cat had been a tranquilizer gun. He hadn’t paid any attention at the time and—
Marcus kicked Yuri’s feet.
Scowling, Yuri glanced over at him.
Marcus met his eyes, then looked pointedly toward a far corner of the living room.
Yuri followed his gaze. His breath caught.
Cat stood there. In the same place she had been standing the night the blast had hit her. Garbed in the same yellow dress. Brow creased.
Relief rushed through him, so intense it damned near left him light-headed.
Heart pounding, he rose.
Cat stared at the bay window in confusion, finding no evidence that it had ever been broken. Clean panes revealed darkness outside overlaid by reflections of light and the figures inside the room. No lingering shards of glass littered the floor. No splinters from the broken windowpane frames stuck out of upholstery. No stray feathers from the winged male who had leapt through the window rested upon the floor.
Brow furrowing, she looked around the room. The coffee table that had been shattered by the first vampire’s body had been removed and replaced. The chairs and sofas that had been overturned in the immortals’ haste to get out of the paths of the shattering glass and the bodies hurled inside had been righted and now provided seating for Immortal Guardians and their Seconds as they engaged in casual conversation as though nothing had happened.
Her eyes fell upon Marcus, seated next to his wife. For once he neither avoided meeting her gaze nor looked uneasy. Instead he appeared to . . . welcome her presence?
A figure near Marcus rose.
Yuri.
Relief suffused her.
He was all right, then, his face and form as perfect as ever.
His eyes met hers and began to glow a faint amber. He cocked his head toward the hallway.
Nodding, she started toward it, weaving her way through the men and women present. She had never grown comfortable with passing through the living, so she ducked and dodged them as she would have had she still been alive herself.
She and Yuri reached the hallway at the same time.
As they passed the infirmary, she glanced inside and saw the winged man, sans wings, sitting beside a bed, clutching the hand of a slumbering Lisette. Seth sat at Lisette’s head, his hand resting on her shoulder and glowing.
Cat followed Yuri downstairs to the basement. Though he was taller and walked with much longer strides, she had no difficulty keeping up with him. Another peculiarity about her existence. No matter how slow her steps, she could progress forward as quickly as she wished.
As soon as they were ensconced in the privacy of his room and could not be overheard, he swung around to face her.
“What happened?” they asked simultaneously.
She bit her lip.
“Me first,” he insisted. Even that defied the norm. Yuri had not been born in this century and still bore the ladies first mind-set.
“All right.”
“What happened?” he repeated. “Where were you?” The questions only heightened her confusion. “What do you mean? I was upstairs.”
“Not just now,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.
“Before. Where have you been since Zach arrived? I’ve been so worried about you.”
“Who is Zach?”
“The winged immortal who tossed two vampires through David’s bay window, then dove in after them with Lisette in his arms.”
“I don’t understand. That just happened while I was upstairs. While we both were.”
Yuri frowned. “What?”
“That just happened,” she repeated, bewildered. “Minutes ago. It just happened. But . . . I don’t . . .” She glanced up at the ceiling, recalling how normal the room and its occupants had appeared, then met his gaze once more. “How did you get it all cleaned up so fast? I didn’t see . . .” She trailed off. Immortals could move fast, but they couldn’t move that fast. They couldn’t have cleaned it up so quickly that she wouldn’t have seen at least some of it unfold.
Yuri stilled, his iridescent amber gaze sharpening.
Didn’t his eyes only glow when he was gripped by strong emotion?
“You think Zach just arrived?” he said.
“Well, yes. Didn’t he?”
A quiet moment passed while he considered her. “Tell me what you remember.”
Anxiety rose. “We were sitting in the living room. Together. On the love seat you’d claimed. The bay window shattered when two vampires were tossed through it. Then the winged man leapt in after them with Lisette cradled in his arms. Richart and Étienne tried to attack him and failed to get close enough to wound him. You, Stanislav, and Roland tried to attack him. And then . . .”
“Then?” he prompted.
She shook her head. It didn’t make sense. “Then everything was back to normal.”
He continued to stare at her, the amber glow fading from his brown eyes.
“Yuri?” The longer he went without speaking, the more worried she grew. “Yuri, I don’t understand. Is that not what happened?”
“Cat,” he said finally and took a step toward her, “Zach shattered David’s window three nights ago.”
“What?” Gaping up at him as he drew closer, she shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
“When Stanislav, Roland, and I attacked him,” Yuri continued, “Zach hit everyone in the room with a blast of power so great it knocked all of us—every immortal and mortal present save Seth and David—off our feet. When the blast of power hit you, you screamed and disappeared. Your form appeared to short-circuit or shatter like glass.”
Cat had no memory of that, but knew Yuri wouldn’t lie to her.
“I haven’t seen you since that blast wave hit you,” he told her. “Not until now. I thought . . .” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to think. I feared Zach had . . . I don’t know . . . exorcised you or banished you the way Seth and David can when they choose.”
She watched him with wide eyes. “I’ve been gone for three nights?”
“Yes.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion. “For three very long nights.”
She took a step toward him. “I’m so sorry, Yuri. I didn’t know.” How she wished she could touch him then. Smooth the furrow from his brow. Burrow into his arms and remove that look of anguish from his handsome face. “I don’t even know where I was. To me, it’s as though only minutes have passed.”
His shoulders slumped. His head bowed. Closing his eyes, he took the last step that separated them.
Warmth raced down the front of her where their bodies merged.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.
Her eyes burned with tears. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m just so damned glad you’re here.”
She lowered her own head and wished she could rest it upon his chest, feel his heart beating beneath her ear.
“How I wish I could hold you in my arms,” he murmured.
The words mirrored her thoughts so closely he might as well have read her mind. “As do I.”
Sighing, he backed away and sank down on the foot of his bed. “Sit with me for a moment.”
Cat sat next to him, so closely that heat from his hip seeped into hers.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice gentle.
She nodded. “A little scared, perhaps. It’s a bit frightening to know I vanished and to have no memory of where I went or know why I went there.”
He nodded.
She thought of the men and women upstairs. “Marcus almost looked happy to see me.”
“He knows how worried I’ve been.”
“He knows I disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he would know where I went?”
He shook his head. “Marcus is even more strict about avoiding contact with spirits than I am. He did help me look for you, though.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t want to leave longer than it took to hunt vampires because I didn’t want to miss you if you returned. So he searched network headquarters for me to see if you were there.”
“That was kind of him.”
“Yes.”
“Would you thank him for me, please? I don’t think he would want me to do it myself.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I don’t know. I think he may be coming around.” Something new sparkled in his eyes. “In fact, he said something to me while you were gone that made me think.”
“About what?” she asked, uncertain what that new light in his eyes reflected.
“You were born with psychometric abilities.”
“Yes.”
“Have you acquired any others since you . . .”
“Died?”
His face tightened. “Yes.”
“No.”
“None at all?”
“Not that I’m aware of, aside from being able to walk through objects. Why?”
“Have you ever tried to visit someone in their dreams?”
She frowned. “No. I wasn’t born with that gift.”
“But you exist in a different realm now. Physically, you’re as intangible as dreams. And I’ve heard that ghosts who delight in frightening people can sometimes infiltrate their victims’ dreams and twist them into nightmares. At least, they do in movies. Maybe you could find your way into that other realm and visit me in my dreams.”
“I already visit you here. Why would you—?”
“I could hold you in my dreams,” he interrupted, voice deepening.
Her breath caught.
“I could touch you in my dreams.”
Excitement sizzled through her.
And how she wanted him to touch her, wanted to discover if she could find the same passion with him that paranormal romance heroines found with their heroes.
She swallowed. “I don’t know how to enter your dreams,” she whispered.
The hope in his eyes began to fade.
“But,” she hastened to add, “I think I may know someone who does.”
“Who?”
“A spirit like those you mentioned. One who enjoys frightening the living. One who may very well haunt both people and dreams.”
A troubled frown drew his brows down. “Cat, I don’t want you to place yourself in danger. If anything were to happen to you—”
“It won’t,” she assured him, but already dreaded the confrontation to come. “I can handle this particular spirit.” She drew phantom fingers along his cheek and hoped she would soon be able to feel the rough rasp of his beard stubble. “If all goes well, I will see you in your dreams this morning.”
His throat moved in a swallow as his eyes darkened with the same longing that had been her constant companion since she had first spoken to him.
Rising, she thought of the estate she wished to visit.
Yuri’s bedroom disappeared, replaced by sunny English countryside.
Cat stared up at a sprawling three-story home and willed away the trepidation that threatened to crush her.
Thinking of Yuri helped, filling her with purpose and courage.
Striding forward, she scaled the wide steps that led up to a pair of imposing double doors and passed through into the home.
It had changed over the centuries, had been remodeled many times over.
Servants went about their daily chores and paid her no heed as she strode past them, searching one room after another until she found herself in what had formerly been the library.
It still boasted tall bookshelves, but had been transformed into a modern home office.
A man with short, auburn hair lightly peppered with gray sat at a large oak desk, typing away at a computer. The current homeowner, she assumed.
Another man—a spirit like herself—with tousled dark blond hair slumped in one of the two chairs that faced the desk, singing a bawdy tavern song under his breath as he watched the other man work. The spirit leaned forward and reached a finger toward a coffee mug that rested a foot or so away from the computer. A grin splitting his face, he jabbed his finger into the side of the mug.
The mug skidded a couple of inches across the wooden surface, sloshing coffee over
its rim.
The man behind the desk jumped and gripped the arms of his chair. “Shit!” His wide eyes fastened on the mug, then swiftly searched the room. Had she been able to hear it, Cat was certain his heart would be pounding a rapid rhythm in his chest.
A long moment passed while the man eyed the mug warily.
When nothing more happened, he pulled a tissue from a box on the opposite side of his desk and reached toward the spilled coffee, every movement stiff with anxiety.
The spirit’s grin widened. When he again stretched a finger toward the mug, Cat spoke.
“Hello, Blaise.”
The spirit jumped even more violently than the homeowner had when the mug had seemingly moved without assistance. Leaping up, he spun around and regarded her with wide eyes, his gleeful smile vanishing. “Catherine.” Her husband’s face filled with unease and shame and she-couldn’t-identify-what-else as she studied him.
Cat had been there the night Roland had slain him. Hers had been the first face her husband and murderer had seen as his spirit had left his body. And as the madness with which the vampiric virus had infected him had fallen away, a new sort of madness had taken its place as he faced the truth of the atrocities he had committed.
He had begged her forgiveness for all he had cost her. Had wept over killing their babe.
Cat had felt nothing but bitterness, and wondered if bitterness was what drove him to torment the living as he did now. Bitterness or boredom, she supposed, and thought he really couldn’t disappoint her more.
“W-what are you doing here?” he asked.
“You owe me a great debt,” she told him.
His gaze fell. “Yes.”
“You have knowledge I require.”
He looked up, curiosity erasing some of his unease. “What knowledge?”
Chapter Five
Stretched out in his king-sized bed, Yuri stared up at the dark ceiling.
Cat was going to try to visit him in his dreams. And damned if insomnia hadn’t chosen to rear its head.
He swore.
When was the last time he had had difficulty sleeping? During his transformation? Certainly not since he had become immortal. Immortals possessed tremendous control over their bodies. They could control their temperature, their pulse, their metabolic rate.
On the Hunt Page 28