Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 49

"Shhh, Henry. It will be over in a moment," Tatiana said. She stroked his hair from his face. Gasping sounded and his throat choked as he coughed up blood. The dark liquid stained along his face, dotting the pure white snow. "Hush, now. It's all right."

"Tat--" Henry's eyes dulled and she felt the last breath slip out of him.

Slowly, she stood. She knew that they were watched from windows. She could feel the eyes gathering. Thomas held his gun, his hand trembling. He looked at her with his worn blue eyes. "Tatiana?"

"Thomas," she said. "You should go."

"Tatiana, is it really you? How? I haven't seen you with Henry. How is it you have come to be here?"

"Go," she insisted. Her eyes glittered in her meaning. "Now. Before you are seen."

"How did you escape the devil?" he asked, shaking. "I never meant for you to see this. He killed my sister. Please, forgive me.

It is justice that I seek this night. Pl--"

"Shhh," Tatiana hushed. "Go."

"Come with me," he urgently whispered.

He moved toward her, limping on his bad ankle. She took a step back, shaking her head. Her lips parted. She let the shadowed light fall on her mouth, tipping her white fangs. Thomas gasped. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a second gun. He pointed it at her, his hand wavering in fear.

"What has happened to you?" he asked, shaking his head in desperation. She could've charged him, disarmed him. Instead, she merely watched. "What has that demon done to you?"

"I helped Henry, Thomas. I cleaned up his mess. I hid Alice's body. I didn't deliver the death blow, but I am as guilty as he. I remember it clearly now," Tatiana said. "I'm sorry."

"So it's true?" the man hissed. "You helped to murder my sister?"

"Yes, forgive me," she whispered. She knew they must hurry. More and more eyes moved to look out at them. It wouldn't be long before the authorities arrived.

"How could you!" Thomas yelled. Then, he began to cry. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. "She loved you. I loved you. I love you still."

"The woman you love is dead. You will move on to find happiness. This I promise. Now, end me, Thomas," Tatiana whispered.

She felt Marcello behind her, felt him stirring. She willed him back, willed him to trust her.

When Thomas didn't move, Tatiana let the bloodl.u.s.t enter her eyes. Baring her fangs, she charged him. Thomas gasped in horror to see the creature she could become. Lifting his gun, he fired. The bullet hit her in the chest, sending her flying back.

Tatiana gasped at the fiery pain blazing inside her. Her body slid across the snow, stopping in a twisted ma.s.s of limbs near Henry's corpse.

Thomas stood frozen. Marcello materialized out of thin air with a growl. Thomas saw him and dropped his guns. He turned, running away from the house.

Marcello looked down were Tatiana lay in the snow. Her body wasn't moving, save for her red and jade eyes. With a worried frown marring his brow, he knelt down and gently lifted her up into his arms.

Mary's face stared out at them from the window, pale and drawn. He ignored the mortal woman, turning his back on her. A desperate curse left his throat, as he pulled Tatiana close to his chest. Tenderly, he swept her lifeless body back to their crypt.

Marcello was forced to dig his fingers into Tatiana's chest to retrieve the bullet. She screamed in agony, unable to lay voice to a coherent thought. In her mind, it was the same, nothing but torturous suffering. He could feel her pain was.h.i.+ng over him like it was his own. He tried to mesmerize her, but she wouldn't let him and he knew she punished herself for Alice.

When the bullet was finally out, he made her drink from the wrist of an enthralled prost.i.tute he'd plucked from the nearby streets. He cut the woman open, letting her life trickle into Tatiana's gasping lips. She swallowed, only because she had no choice. It was going to be a slow and painful recovery, but her body would eventually heal itself.

After taking the prost.i.tute and dropping her off, blocks away from the graveyard they rested in, Marcello opened their shared coffin. He set Tatiana's tired body inside. Her pale eyes stared up at him in her pain. He swallowed over the lump in his throat, crawling into the darkness with her.

"You are a fool," he whispered darkly. Only then did he allow the shaking fear to enter his body. He pulled her close, holding her tight. For a brief second, he'd thought he would lose her. When the gun fired and she flew back, he'd waited, frozen in terror, for her to turn to ash. Thankfully, the bullet struck too far right and only punctured her lung--an all but useless organ to her. "He could've pierced your heart. You are young. It could've killed you. If you were weakened in such a way, he could--"

"I have done what needed to be done," Tatiana broke in against the searing pain. "I have repaid my debt. I have given Thomas his revenge and his peace."

Marcello growled, hugging her tighter. She flinched, but he didn't let her go--couldn't let go. Weakly, as he watched her eyes close into the void of her dreams, he whispered, "Perdonami amore mio.I could've lost you. I shouldn't have let you face him,cara mia. I could've lost you. I could've lost you."

Tatiana stirred but did not waken.

"Perdonami amore mio," he whispered over and over again, kissing her temple, breathing deeply of her scent. 'Forgive me, my love.'

Tatiana opened her eyes and was met with the shadowed ceiling of the stone crypt. It was a dank place, one she knew Marcello did not like staying in. He'd only come to London because of her. She knew that and was grateful.

Stretching out with her senses, she tried to feel for him. She could detect him near, wandering about amongst the graves.

Slowly, she sat, looking around. She felt a small chill.

"Alice?" she whispered, looking through the darkness. Tatiana climbed out of the coffin. "Alice?"

She felt a wavering presence beside her and turned. Alice's transparent form stood before her. Her pale features smiled as her hand lifted gracefully to touch Tatiana's cheek. Tatiana felt the maid's energy next to her, though the hand wasn't solid against her skin.

"I am sorry, Alice," Tatiana said. "I'm so sorry. I ... I shouldn't have helped Henry to hide you. I shouldn't have beckoned you to me. I'm sorry."

Alice's hand drifted down over her chest to hover near the bullet wound. Her face turned sad.

"Henry's gone. Thomas has avenged you. It's over."

Alice closed her eyes and nodded. Tatiana heard the woman's words whispered in her head, "Thank you."

"I release you from this world, Alice," Tatiana whispered. Alice had been her best friend in her past life, but this was a new life and it was time to let her go. "I release you."

Alice opened her eyes--eyes that shone in a bright blue happiness and peace. She nodded once and slowly faded. Tatiana was left with a hollow feeling in her chest. Alice was truly gone.

Walking out into the winter night, she ignored the sting of the cold wind on her cheeks. She couldn't feel it anyway. Her chest ached as she walked, but she ignored it. The worst of the physical pain was over.

Seeing a figure leaning tall against an old gravestone shaped like a cross, she sighed. Marcello. She shouldn't have bound him to her. She realized that now. The burden of her future wasn't for him to bear. It wasn't fair to him. And, though she was sure it might kill her to do it, she would release him from her. In doing so, he would then be able to release his hold on her. He would again be free.

"Marcello," she whispered, sad.

He held up his hand to her and motioned her forward. She stepped closer, only now sensing the smell of a human. She leaned, looking around his shoulder to where he pointed. There, huddled and s.h.i.+vering, was her father.

"Father?" she gasped. She began to step forward, but stopped to see the look of apprehension on his face. "What did you do, Marcello?"

"He's done nothing," William Sinclairsaid to his daughter. He was thin, frail, a man aged by years more rapidly than he should've been. "I--I came on my own. I searched for you. I--I wanted to see you."

"How...?" Tatiana asked.

"I know what you are," he whispered, looking up at Marcello. "I know you saved my grandson."

Tatiana frowned.