Part 43 (1/2)

”Don't I have a say?” Tatiana asked. All three men turned to her, amused.

”No,” Jiri said simply, dismissingly. Then, to the brothers, he said, ”There is no other choice in it. You will share her until one or the other relents.”

”I will never relent,” Marcello said.

”Nor will I,” Leandro said.

”Then, witch, it would appear you have two guardians.” Jiri laughed and Tatiana saw that he was greatly amused by her situation. The dark sound did not give her hope. Jiri looked them all over. ”I don't know who I pity more of you three. Her, because she is bound to listen to your arguments as I once had to hear. Or you both, for her Moroi blood combined with her witch blood will make her strong and hard to control. It is a job I don't envy.”

”Moroi?” Tatiana asked.

”Yourvampire tribe, my child,” Jiri stated. ”Don't worry. You have two masters that shall explain your new world to you. I shall imagine your visions will grow, for our line is adept at reading people.”

Tatiana grimaced. She didn't want her visions to grow.

Jiri frowned, tilting his head. ”I smell new death and not of the grave.”

”It is her spirit,” Marcello said quietly. Tatiana realized it was the first time he spoke since Jiri's arrival. She studied his hard face, but he did not look at her. ”It follows her.”

”Ah, I can see why you were weakened into changing her, Leandro. She is truly an oddity, is she not?” Jiri sighed. Then, looking around at the group, he shook his head in what looked like pity. ”I go to speak with the tribal council. I will tell them of this. They will not be happy. Don't give them cause to voice their displeasure, or me mine.”

With that warning, Jiri turned and walked out the open door as if he'd never been there.

”Will ... will he be back?” Tatiana asked, s.h.i.+vering. She edged closer to Marcello. He blinked in surprise. Looking down to where her hand gripped his arm.

”No. So long as we don't give him cause,” Leandro said. He looked at her hold on his brother and scowled. Instead of commenting, he stated darkly, ”I will have food brought to us and separate chambers readied. It appears as if we will be living together for a long while.”

When they were alone, Tatiana turned to look up at Marcello. ”Let's go. Let's just run away from here.”

”We can't,” Marcello stated. His hard expression relented some when he gazed into her tormented vampire eyes. ”To do so would mean our deaths.”

”You would have us stay here? With Leandro?” Tatiana asked. ”Please, let's go back to Paris and start anew or to England, to my home. Let's just leave. With your knowledge and strength combined with my heritage, surely we can defeat--”

”All the tribal leaders? The only known start of us all? Eight of the most powerful vampires known to exist in this world?”

Marcello asked. ”No,bella mia , there is no escaping. Eternity is too long a time to run.”

Leandro stepped down the front steps of his hall, moving with liquid grace and beauty. His hooded eyes fell on Jiri. He wasn't surprised to see him. He'd heard the old vampire's beckoning in his head. Leandro was loath to leave Marcello and Tatiana alone, having felt the spark of desire between them, which they both tried to suppress from the other. Just as he knew she loved his brother, Leandro knew she would never love him. He did not want her love, but he jealously did not want Marcello to have it. It was the only reason he kept his hold on her.

”What is your old saying? Ah, yea,” Jiri said. ”Bacco, tabacco e Venere riducono l'uomo in cenere.Wine, women, and tobacco reduces one to ashes.”

”So does a stake,” Leandro mused softly, reaching the bottom step and stopping to study his vampiric father.

Jiri chuckled. ”So true. You were always the funnier of the two, my son.”

Leandro's thoughts turned to his brother. However, he remained still, watching the motionless Jiri stare back at him.

”The past must die,” Jiri said. His hands threaded neatly behind his back. They were both elegant, graceful creatures--well dressed, poised, handsome, eternally in the prime of their appearance. ”He was too young to know better. The hunger had been denied too long. Marcello couldn't help that he killed her. Besides, why pine for a wh.o.r.e?”

”She was mine,” was all Leandro said. He knew his eyes filled red with blood, just as he knew the demonic showing wouldn't give Jiri a moment's pause. For a brief instant, the last bit of his humanity stirred in Leandro. Revenge. Anger. Hatred. That was all he had left from his human self. If he let it go, he would surely lose that last shred of emotion that kept him alive. Then his life would turn as hollow as his grave and twice as empty. He needed his hatred, his rage, his bitter thoughts. He needed Tatiana, for possessing her quickened him. For so long as she was his, Marcello couldn't have her completely.

”I can't force you to give up your benighted child,” Jiri said, ”but I can warn you against her. She is not for you, my son. Her strength is rare, strange.”