Vampire 05 - Shades of Gray by Amanda Ashley

Author:Amanda Ashley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Paranormal, Contemporary, Romance, Fantasy, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781428516625
Publisher: DP
Published: 2011-07-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

"Well, I'm beat," Ramsey muttered. "I think I'll turn in."

"Good night, Edward."

"Don't fail me tomorrow, Ramsey."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Grigori nodded.

"See you tomorrow," Edward said. He started out of the room, then paused and glanced over his shoulder at Marisa. "Which room do you want to sleep in?"

Marisa thought of trying to sleep in one of the children's beds and knew she couldn't do it, couldn't sleep in a bed where someone had died. Nor could she bring herself to sleep in the bed Grigori had shared with Antoinette. "I think I'll sleep out here on the bench."

"Okay. Good night."

"Night."

Grigori went to the tiny window in the front of the house and stared out into the darkness. As clearly as if it were day, he could see the fields beyond, the weeds that grew in the furrows where he had once planted the crops that had sustained his family. He heard the beat of mighty wings as an owl plummeted earthward, talons outstretched, heard the terrified shriek of the bird's prey. The hunter and the hunted. Predator and prey. The endless cycle of life and death.

All these years he had thought Antoinette dead. In his mind, he had buried her and grieved for her when she hadn't been dead at all. She had lived as Alexi's creature for two hundred years, and now, because of him, she would have to be destroyed. He wished that he had the right to pray, wished he could go into the village chapel where their children had been baptized and light a candle for Antoinette's immortal soul. But he had no right, no hope of being heard.

"Grigori?"

Slowly, he turned around to face Marisa. What a rare and wonderful creature she was. Such a fragile being, wrapped in her humanity. And yet her life, her warmth, drew him like a hearth fire on a winter night, beckoning to him, inviting him to come in from the dark and the cold.

"I'm sorry about Antoinette."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, either."

"Isn't it?" Grief and guilt settled over him, entangling him in a web of regret from which there was no escape. He had given her the Dark Gift. He should be the one to destroy her, yet he dared not go into the crypt at night, not when he might encounter Alexi again. He was not strong enough to withstand another attack by the vampyre. And, deep in his heart, he feared he lacked the courage to do what must be done. How could he cut out her heart, take her head? How could he desecrate the body of the woman who had shared his bed, borne his children?

"You should get some rest," Marisa said quietly.

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

"Marisa—"

"I'm here." She held out her arms. He looked at her a moment, and then, unable to resist the comfort she offered, he crossed the floor, felt the burden of his guilt ease a little as Marisa wrapped her arms around him.

They stood there for a long while, his forehead resting on the top of her head, her hand lightly stroking his back.

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