His voice had lowered at the last, and the husky timbre thrummed through Anya, arousing her all over again. What was it about Zach Christopher that made her lose control so easily?
There’s a bond between us, he’d said, and at that moment, Anya could believe it was true.
But bonds were fragile. Bonds could be severed. And it was up to Anya to break those ties to Zach once and for all. She forced a coldness into her tone. “You’ve made all these plans without consulting me?”
“I’m consulting you now,” Zach said. “And besides, we do still have a contract, Anya. I’m trying to make it easy for you. For some reason, you say you won’t—can’t—come back to the city. Fine. We’ll do the last shoot right here. The arrangements have already been made. Julian and the crew will be here tomorrow. I expect your full cooperation.”
More people were coming? Julian…the crew…Dear God, how would she be able to stand it? How would she be able to fight the temptation when her needs were already so brutal? So demanding?
Sensing her hesitation, Zach was quick to follow up. He said, “You really don’t have a choice in the matter, Anya. I don’t want to sound unfeeling, but there’s a hell of a lot at stake here. It’s not just for me. A good many people’s livelihoods are in jeopardy, people that I care about. I don’t know what it is that’s frightening you, tormenting you, but somehow, you’ve got to find a way to see this thing through. Just this one last shoot, Anya. That’s all I’m asking of you.”
But it wasn’t. He was asking so much more than that. So much more than he could ever understand.
She gazed silently at the ocean, then said, almost in a whisper, “If I do this one last thing for you, will you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
She looked at him then, letting her gaze trap him in its inexorable spell, consciously using her powers against him. He would hear her. He would listen to her. He would do exactly as she asked. But she could feel his resistance before she’d even uttered a word, reminding her all over again how incredibly strong his will was.
“Once the shoot is finished,” she said softly, “you’ll leave here. You’ll leave here and never come back.”
“I’ll leave here,” Zach said. “I’ll leave here and never come back.”
Anya heard him repeat her words back to her, and a part of her plummeted into despair. He had heard her. He would listen to her. He would leave here and never come back.
Then he reached out suddenly and grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Anya gazed into his eyes and realized once again how powerful, how very persuasive that green gaze could be. She trembled at his touch.
“I’ll leave here, Anya, and I won’t come back—” his finger whispered over her lips “—at least…not until you ask me to.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Anya, you have a phone call,” Freida said, wringing her hands excitedly as she stood just inside Anya’s bedroom door. “It’s Dr. Traymore!”
Anya looked up from her writing. She tried to quiet the sudden leap of excitement inside her, but her heart was already beating an impatient tattoo. This could be it, she thought. This could be the moment I’ve been waiting for.
She laid aside her pen and reached for the phone, but something stopped her. “Where’s Zach?” she asked cautiously.
“He’s in his room,” Freida said. “I think perhaps he’s already gone to bed. Don’t worry. You’ll have complete privacy.”
“Thank you.” Anya picked up the receiver but waited until Freida had left the room and closed the door before she spoke urgently into the mouthpiece. “Leonard? Is that you?”
An ominous silence followed.
“Leonard? Are you there?” Anya began to grow panicky, but finally she heard Dr. Traymore’s deep voice sputtering across the wire. He sounded a million miles away.
“Anya. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Yours, too.” Had he always sounded so feeble? So fragile? Perhaps she shouldn’t have sent someone his age to do such perilous research, but there’d been no one else she could trust. No one else had his knowledge, his beliefs. He’d known, or at least suspected, such evil existed in the world long before Anya had even been born.
The wire crackled in Anya’s ear and an ember exploded in the fireplace. Anya jumped, proving to herself how much on edge she was.
“Anya? Are you still there? I can barely hear you. We’ve a terrible connection, it seems.”
Anya could almost see the white-haired archaeologist tamping down the tobacco in his pipe. The image instantly reassured her. “Yes, I’m here. Please, tell me what you’ve found. Do you have the book?”
“Yes, I have the book, but…” He trailed off unexpectedly. She detected a kind of quiet caution and something else, something harder to define, in his voice. Fear? Disappointment?
Anya’s heart dropped. “But…it’s…not what we expected? The answers—”
“The answers are still very elusive, Anya,” he said wearily. “The book is full of riddles. It could take a very long time to decipher all the meanings, and even then it may not be what we wanted to find. You must be prepared, my dear.”
Prepared? How did she prepare herself for an eternity of darkness, of loneliness, of savage hunger? How did she prepare herself for a life without love, only an evil possession too unspeakable to contemplate?
Anya closed her eyes. Her hand holding the phone shook uncontrollably. “Dr. Traymore, there must be an answer for me somewhere inside that book. You have to find it. You have to help me. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on—”
“Anya!” His aged voice sprang across the line, strong now in reproach. “You must hang on! However long it takes, you must not give in. Do you know what would happen? Do you know what you would become? A monster, just like him.”
“I know! Don’t you think I know that? I dream about it every night. But without hope, without the possibility of light, it seems too overwhelming.”
“There’s always hope, my dear,” Dr. Traymore said kindly. “Never give up. I have the book. That’s the first step. Rest assured that if the answer is buried somewhere inside it, I’m the one who can find it. Trust me.”
Trust me. Zach had asked the same thing of her. And before him, Gershom. Who could she trust now? Who could she believe? Despair overwhelmed her, but she tried to shove it away, tried to muster her courage and resolve. “When will you be coming home?” she asked Dr. Traymore.
“Soon.” He hesitated then said, “Anya,” in a voice that made her skin crawl with dread.
“What is it?”
“Be careful, child. Be very, very careful. If Gershom senses we are closing in on a way to thwart him, he will become even more dangerous, even more cunning. He will come for you, Anya. He will come for you before the bond can be broken.”
“He would come here?” she whispered. “He would cross water to come here for me?”
“He would do anything to possess you. Never underestimate his power. Away from his native soil, his powers are diminished to be sure, but his forces are still greater than you and I can imagine. He will come for you, Anya. Make no mistake. It’s just a matter of time now….”
Anya hung up the phone, trembling. Dear Lord. Dear God in heaven, her worst nightmares had come true. She knew with certainty what she had been trying to deny for days.
Gershom was here. He had come for her at last.
He was out there in the darkness, watching and waiting and biding his time. He would be searching for blood to rebuild his strength. Looking for victims to replenish his powers. When he had fed, when he was strong again, then he would come for her.
Anya opened the balcony doors and a gust of wind swept inside. A scent clung to the air, a subtle aroma of decay. Anyone else might have thought it only the promise of winter, but Anya knew it was a darker covenant, a deeper, more lasting vow. She closed her eyes and remembered Gershom’s whispering pledge: “One perfect kiss, Anya, and already you and I
are inseparably linked. You are mine now. For eternity. From this night forward, you can never know the love of a man, for a man who arouses your passions will also unleash your hunger. That is my gift to you.”
And then, “You can run, but you cannot escape me. I will always be with you, in your mind and in your dreams. One day soon you will come to me. When your hunger becomes unbearable, you will come to me.”
“No,” Anya whispered to the wind. “I will never come to you.”
The wind sharpened, assaulting her with a force that took her breath away. He was angry, she thought. Angry at her defiance, and the notion suddenly elated her, filled her with power. For ten years, she had resisted him. She would resist him still. She would prove to him that here she could be strong.
For ten years, Anya had secluded herself from the world because of Gershom. For ten years, she had cloistered herself in loneliness and darkness and torment because she had feared to defy his prophecy. For ten years, she had lived by his rules.
Then she’d met Zach. She’d met the one man who could tear her resolve to shreds, who could destroy her will with one look, one touch, his own perfect kiss….
And she could have him, she thought. She could have him now. Would that not be the ultimate resistance to the darkness? Would that not prove to Gershom—and to herself—once and for all that he would never have her, that she would never, ever go to him again?
Would it not be her first step to salvation?
The idea set her to trembling. What would it be like to wake up with Zach at sunrise? To walk with him in the sunlight? To watch the sunset with him in the evening? What would it be like to kiss him without the fear, without the guilt, without the hunger?
Oh, Zach, Zach, she cried inwardly. Are you the one? Are you the one who can save me?
Anya closed her eyes, opening her mind and her heart and her soul to the night. A dozen fragrances wafted over her. A dozen sounds swept through her. She concentrated harder, probed deeper….
Yes, yes, there it was! There was the sound, the echo, the deep throbbing of his heart. It came to her out of the darkness, filling her senses like the most glorious of music. She knew the rhythm so well by now. The delicious cadence seemed perfectly timed to her own racing pulse. The sound made her shiver, made her sway in the darkness.
And the scent! Oh, that rapturous scent that was him, and him alone. Was she only imagining that sweet essence, that tantalizing fragrance? And did it matter? Whether real or imagined, it called to her, lured her to him.
Without quite knowing how, Anya found herself outside Zach’s door. Her hand curled around the knob, and a blast of electricity shot through her. Just a few more steps. Just a little closer. Just a heartbeat away…and he would be hers.
Anya opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. Zach had left his balcony doors opened to the night, and a chilly breeze drifted through the room, stirring the scents that already whirled inside Anya’s head. Zach lay in bed, asleep. The gossamer curtains around the bed softened his features until he seemed hardly more than an illusion to Anya. A glorious, tempting mirage.
She took a step closer, her heart hammering inside her chest. The sound of Zach’s heart, as loud as a drumbeat, pulsed through the shadowy room like the most irresistible of summons. Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.
Anya felt weak, shivery, hot and cold all over. She parted the sheer curtains of the bed and stood looking down at him. He was lying on his back, the cover drawn up only to his waist. His chest and arms and shoulders were bare except for the moonlight spilling over him, highlighting the hard definition of his muscles. A sprinkling of golden brown hair on his chest arrowed its way beneath the cover, making Anya’s heart beat even faster. Even in sleep, he looked strong and powerful and oh, so masculine.
A wave of dizziness swept over her as she gazed down at him. She fought the emotion, fought the pull, but her desire burned like a fever inside her, growing and spreading until it consumed every inch of her.
But something else dawned inside her, too. Fear. Fear that she would lose control. Fear that her worst nightmares would come true.
And as Anya stood looking at Zach, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t trust herself, couldn’t be sure. Even if she were willing to risk her own soul, she couldn’t ask that of Zach. She wouldn’t risk his life…or his soul. Not even to save hers.
She turned to go, but something caught her wrist, something strong and determined and male. Anya whirled, her gaze meeting Zach’s in the moonlight. He released her hand, but his eyes captured her, held her in thrall.
Resist, her mind commanded.
Submit, her heart pleaded.
A thousand sensations rushed through her. Something in her movements, something in the frantic way she put her fingers to her lips must have spoken to him of her confusion, her need, her desperate desire.
He pushed himself up on his elbow, gazing at her with smoldering passion and a desperate hunger almost as great as her own. Anya’s pulse quickened at his look. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and all she could think was I want him.
The breeze drifted through the gossamer folds of her midnight blue negligee. She wore nothing underneath, and Anya knew that the moonlight was all revealing. In the soft light, Zach’s eyes made love to her. His gaze worshiped her, adored every line and curve of her body until she stood trembling with need. He wasn’t even touching her, and she could feel the ache inside her pulsing, feel the hunger deep within her swelling.
No! Don’t think about that, she warned herself. Don’t think about the darkness, about him. Think about Zach. Only Zach. Think about the tenderness, the passion, the glorious light that surrounds him.
Think about the humanness still inside you, and the womanly passions that Zach liberates.
His eyes ignited in the moonlight. His hair glistened with gold, inviting her fingers. The subtle fragrance of his cologne and the scent of warm masculinity mingled into a combination unbearably thrilling. Anya’s senses came alive as never before.
“Come to me, Anya,” he commanded softly. His voice was low and masterful, darkly erotic and full of promise. Anya’s insides quivered at the sound, but still he made no move to touch her. He got up, letting the cover slip from his naked body as he stood before her in the moonlight, gazing down at her with a look so fiercely possessive, so dangerously knowing that Anya melted. Her knees trembled. Her heart pounded.
She couldn’t stop looking at him.
“Shall I tell you what I want?” he asked.
“Yes, tell me,” she whispered. “Zach…” She breathed his name into the darkness. His gaze intensified at the sound. His eyes darkened with promise, and Anya knew, at that moment, that she was lost. She closed her eyes as his voice drifted over her like warm, dark velvet.
“I want to touch you,” he said. “All over. Your lips, your hair, your eyes. Your throat. I want to feel your pulse beating against my mouth. I want to rip that lovely gown from your body and look at you for as long as I want to in the moonlight. I want to kiss you…here…” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and Anya felt them tighten, aching with an intensity that made her shiver with anticipation. “…and here…and here…and here,” he murmured, his eyes traveling down her body, warming her, making her tingle all over. “…and especially…here…” he whispered.
His voice stroked her, possessed her, made her burn with a passion that was utterly consuming. Blinded by her desire for him, Anya could almost forget…could almost believe….
Could she do it?
Could she experience one passion without the other? Could she give in to her desire and not her hunger?
Could she?
She was still a woman after all. A part of her still ached with very real, very human wants and needs and desires. With Zach she would know only passion, only light. She could make the darker urges go away, at least for a little while. At least for one night.
But what if she couldn’t? What if…?
/> Zach’s eyes blazed with green fire as he gazed down at her. He reached for her, pulled her to him. With one hand, he ripped away the delicate fabric of her gown until the shimmering silk puddled at their feet. Nothing stood between them now. The barriers had tumbled, and the moment of truth had come.
His fingers plunged through her hair, drawing her to him for a long, deep, soul-shattering kiss. Anya felt herself balancing on the edge of a very deep, very dark, very dangerous cliff. The anticipation, the thrill of the moment burst through her, shattering her defenses like a stone thrown through glass.
“Tell me what you want,” he commanded. “Anything…”
“Kiss me,” she pleaded. “Kiss me again and again and again….”
And he did. He backed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers until they seemed one. His tongue drove inside her mouth, searching for hers. Anya’s arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him even closer, and Zach groaned against her lips.
Had there ever been passion before? Had there ever been want and need and desire? From his lips Anya tasted life and passion and heat and light, everything that had been lost to her for so many years. Greedily, she drank them all in, savoring them, devouring each and every sensation as though it might be the last.
He lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, molding their bodies together in just the right places, as he moved toward the bed. They tumbled downward. The slippery satin coverlet against her naked skin made Anya feel even more reckless, more wanton. She reached for him again and he came to her, covering her body with his own, making her feel breathless and hot and faint with desire. She cupped the back of his neck, dragging his mouth back to hers. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and the faint taste of blood filled her senses.
Passion exploded inside her.
Hunger ravaged through her.
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