Shades of Gray (24 page)

He would take possession of the house that night.

Marisa glanced at the clock as she went to answer the door, wondering who would come calling so late. It was almost eleven.

"Who is it?"

"Grigori."

She rested her forehead against the door and closed her eyes. She hadn't seen him in over a week, and though she had missed him, she was relieved that he was out of her life. No matter how attractive she had found him, he was a vampire. Relationships with normal men were hard enough; she didn't need the added baggage of dating the undead.

With a sigh, she opened the door. "It's late."

"I know." He held out a bouquet of roses. "May I come in?"

"It's late," she said again. "I was just going to bed."

"Marisa…"

She looked up at him, not wanting to hear the loneliness in his voice, not wanting to remember the kisses they had shared, or the night she had held him in her arms.

"Please, Grigori — "

He thrust the flowers at her. A dozen perfect white roses, and in their center, like a drop of blood, a single red bloom.

"They're lovely," she said.

"As are you."

She recalled that he had said those very same words to her that night they had walked in the park together. She ran her fingertip over one of the rose petals. "What do you want?"

"To see you, nothing more."

"No." She shook her head. "I told you, I don't want to see you again."

She felt the anger that stirred within him. She remembered a line from a
Star Wars
movie, something about it not being wise to upset a Wookie. Obviously, the same warning applied to vampires.

"I told you once," Grigori said, his voice as hard as tempered steel, "I would never take you against your will."

"And I told you to stop reading my mind!"

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm afraid I've become accustomed to having my own way."

She looked into his eyes, those deep, dark eyes, and in the back of her mind she heard Edward's voice warning her that Grigori could read her mind, that he could make her do whatever he wished.
They have no morals,
Edward had said,
no
qualms about taking whatever they want.
Grigori could hypnotize her with a look, she thought. Perhaps he was doing it now.

She drew her gaze from him. "I think you'd better go."

"As you wish." His gaze caressed her, warming her skin. "Good night, Marisa."

"Good night."

She closed the door, and then leaned back against it, her nostrils filling with the scent of roses.

In the distance, she heard the melancholy wail of a wolf.

The dreams started that night — sultry, erotic dreams that made her toss and turn so that she woke drenched in perspiration; dreams that lingered in her mind long after she awoke; dreams that left her feeling as though she had done something wicked in her sleep. Dreams that made her angry because she knew he was sending them to her, knew it was his way of telling her that if she would not see him during her waking hours, she would see him when she was at her most vulnerable.

Even if she could forget the dreams — and there was no chance of that — he found another way to keep in touch. The day after the dreams began, he started sending her flowers at work. Always roses. White ones, red ones, pink ones, until her office looked like a florist shop.

He sent flowers to her house. Dozens and dozens of long-stemmed bloodred roses.

He sent her heart-shaped boxes of chocolates.

And more flowers.

Linda and the other girls at the office began to tease her about her new boyfriend, demanding to know his name and when they were going to meet him.

She was glad when Thanksgiving came. The office closed Thursday and Friday, giving her a long weekend. She intended to spend it finishing up her Christmas shopping. Her parents had asked her to come spend the holiday with them in Florida, but she just wasn't up to the trip. Linda invited Marisa to spend the day with her and her family, but she declined, deciding what she really needed was some time alone.

Being alone had seemed like a good idea on Wednesday after a busy day at work. Thursday morning she thought it stank. Everyone she knew was spending the day with friends and family, and she was going to be sitting home by herself.

Well, it was her own fault. She spent the morning wrapping Christmas presents, ate lunch, watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Later, bored, she did a load of wash. She was folding it when the phone rang.

She answered it on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Marisa?"

"Edward, how are you?"

"Fine. And you?"

"I'm good. I thought, well, I thought you'd probably left town by now."

"No." He didn't say why he was still in the city, but they both knew it was because he was worried about her. "I was… that is, I know you're probably busy, but I was wondering, if you're not doing anything… would you like to go out for dinner with me?" He said the last in a rush, as if he was certain she would refuse him and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"I'd like that," she said, surprising them both.

"You would? That's great. What time shall I pick you up?"

"Five?"

"I'll be there. And Marisa? Thank you."

"Thank you."

She was humming when she hung up the phone.

Edward arrived promptly at five, bearing a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. He looked quite handsome in a light gray suit. She stared at him a moment, trying to figure out why he looked different, and then realized he wasn't wearing brown.

"Hi," she said, "come on in."

"Thank you." He handed her the flowers and held up the wine. "Shall I open this now?"

Marisa nodded. "I'm going to put these in some water."

He followed her into the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine while she pulled a vase from one of the cupboards.

"They're lovely." She arranged the bouquet in a cut-glass vase that had belonged to her grandmother, and then placed it on the kitchen table. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He handed her a glass. "You haven't heard from Alexi, have you?"

"No. Why? Do you think he's come back?"

Ramsey shrugged. "I don't know, but if he does, you'll probably be the first to know it."

"That's a comfort. There haven't been any more deaths reported in the papers." She read the
Times
every morning, always afraid she'd see those awful headlines that read
vampire killer strikes again.

"Have you seen Chiavari?"

Marisa shook her head. "No." Except in my dreams, she thought. But she couldn't tell Edward that.

"So," Edward said, "where shall we eat?"

"I don't care. It's up to you."

"Do you want turkey and all the trimmings?"

"I'd rather have lobster."

They went to dinner at a seafood restaurant. Edward ordered fried shrimp; Marisa had lobster.

"How much longer will you be in town?" Marisa asked.

"I don't know. I rented a house down by the beach."

"You did!"

He nodded, somewhat sheepishly, she thought. "I really like it down there. I've never lived by the ocean. It's… I don't know, kind of peaceful."

"Kind of expensive, too, I'll bet."

"Yeah, but I can afford it."

"I never thought about it, but I guess there must be good money in vampire hunting."

"Yeah, it's a specialized field," Ramsey agreed. "People are willing to pay a great deal to get rid of a vampire."

"Do you have any family anywhere?"

"Here and there. I've got an old maiden aunt in Chicago, and a couple of cousins in Boston. What about you?"

"My folks live in Florida. They moved there two years ago when my dad retired. My brother, Mike, lives in Denver. He's a stockbroker. I haven't seen him since last Christmas."

"Christmas," Ramsey murmured.

"I'm going to Florida to spend it with my parents," Marisa said. "I'm not really in the mood, but they're expecting me. My brother and his family will be there. It's about the only time of the year we're all together."

"Must be nice," Edward remarked.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll go back to Chicago and see my aunt, get rid of my apartment, pick up my mail, change my address." He grinned crookedly. "Sounds like a fun holiday, doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, no problem. I'm used to it."

"Maybe we can get together when I get back," Marisa suggested.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

They spoke of inconsequential things over dinner. Marisa mentioned she was getting a raise the first of the year; Edward said he was thinking of buying a new car.

"Would you like to go to a movie?" Edward asked as they left the restaurant.

"Sure, why not?"

They drove uptown. Marisa gazed out the window, admiring the lights and decorations that adorned the houses. Hard to believe it was almost Christmas, that another year was drawing to a close.

"You know, I still can't believe it was real," she remarked as Edward parked the car. "It all seems so bizarre."

"I know. Sometimes I can't believe it myself."

He got out of the car and came around to open her door. "It's just so unreal. I mean, here we are, going to the movies as if it had never happened. I can't believe that just two weeks ago, we were fighting a vampire. Tell me," she said as they walked toward the theater. "How do people get in touch with you? You don't advertise in the phone book, do you?"

He laughed at that. "Not quite. It's mostly just word of mouth. There are people throughout the country who know what I do. When they hear of unusual killings, they notify me."

He bought two tickets for the latest Mel Gibson movie and they went inside. "Popcorn?" he asked.

Marisa shook her head. "Not right now. I'm still full from dinner."

"Yeah, that lobster was almost as big as you are."

Marisa grinned at him.

They held hands in the show, went out for ice cream afterward.

"Thanks," Marisa said when they reached her apartment. "I had a really nice time."

"Me too. Maybe we can do it again."

"I'd like, that." She looked up at him and knew he was going to kiss her good night. "Marisa
— " He put his arms around her and drew her close. There was nothing tentative in his movements now, no hesitation.

Marisa closed her eyes as his mouth covered hers. It was a pleasant kiss, evoking neither passion nor revulsion.

"Good night," lie whispered.

"Good night. And thank you for a nice time."

He nodded. "See ya."

"See ya."

She watched him get into his car and drive away, and still she stood on the landing, staring into the distance, at the twinkling lights on the houses across the way, at the twinkling stars overhead.

She wished that she could love Edward, but she didn't feel passion for him, only affection. Maybe it was the age difference. After all, he was eighteen years older than she was, she mused, and then laughed out loud. Grigori was two hundred years older than she was and she didn't have any trouble whipping up a grand passion for him.

She crossed her arms over the railing and let out a long, slow sigh. Was that why she was feeling so melancholy? Because she missed him?

"Might as well admit it," she muttered. "Vampire or not, you're in love with him. But that's all right. You'll get over it."

"Get over what?"

She whirled around, her heart in her throat, at the sound of his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I come here every night."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What for?"

He lifted one dark brow in an all too familiar gesture. "Why the hell do you think?"

"I told you I don't want you here."

"I stopped doing what other people tell me to do a long time ago."

"Well, it's late. Good night."

"Sweet dreams, Marisa."

"Stay out of my dreams!" Unlocking the door, she went inside and slammed it shut behind her, only to find him waiting for her when she turned around.

"Marisa."

"Oh! I hate it when you do that." She threw her purse on the chair, and then crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"I want you."

"Well, that's too bad."

"Tell me you don't want me."

"I don't want you."

"Liar."

She glared up at him, all her anger and frustration boiling to the surface. Before she realized what she was doing, she slapped him.

The solid smack of her hand striking his flesh seemed to echo and re-echo in the stillness that fell between them.

She stared at him, horrified by what she had done, by what he might do in retaliation.

"Feel better?" he asked quietly.

"No." She blinked back the tears welling in her eyes. "Please leave me alone."

"I can't."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"I told you. I want you."

"I can't. I don't believe in casual affairs."

"Is that what you think I want?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know."

"Marisa…"

His voice moved over her, whisper quiet, whisper soft. She shook her head, her heart fluttering like a kite caught in a high wind, as his knuckles caressed her cheek.

"Don't." She forced the word from a mouth gone dry.

"You want me, too."

"It isn't right." She swallowed hard. "It isn't natural." She'd hurt him now. She could see it in the depths of his eyes… those devil black eyes that could look as soft as velvet or as hard as granite.

"There's nothing unnatural about what I want from you," he replied, his voice sandpaper rough. "Do you deny you've thought of it, wondered about it?"

She yearned to deny it with every fiber of her being, but she knew she couldn't lie to him. She could lie to herself as much as she wished, she could even voice the words aloud to Grigori, but it would be a waste of breath, because he could read the truth in her mind, the feelings in her heart.

Grigori held out his hand. "Come to me, Marisa."

"Please, don't ask me." He was close, so close. Too close. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants to keep from reaching for him, and yet, in spite of all she could do, she felt herself being inexplicably drawn toward him. Was it Grigori's own inherent power exerting its influence over her, she wondered, or was it her foolish heart overruling her mind?