Page 75 of Eternal Surrender

“If you can read my thoughts. . .” Ingrid’s lips parted in anticipation. “You’re a vampire.”

“Exactly.”

She reflected defiance; perfectly silhouetted by the balmy moonlight, yet her apparent strength was unwavering and, despite shaking slightly, she reflected dignity.

“You’re perfect in every way,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

Puffs of cold air left her lips, and her breathing became unsteady as her delicate expressions revealed she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“It was the Marquis de Sade that once said, ‘It is always by way of pain that one arrives at pleasure.’” I ran my thumb over her lips. “The term sadism, that is to experience pleasure while inflicting pain, was first presented by the Marquis de Sade.”

“I know what it means.” Her words fell away like a frightened whisper.

“I was once locked up in a Parisian cell with him.” I recalled the date. “1810, if you can believe that.”

A low mist seeped in beneath the door gathering at our feet, seemingly trying to encroach without being noticed and hoping to share in the dark drama unfolding.

Ingrid’s eyelids fluttered, but other than that, she didn’t move.

I flicked a few brunette strands from out of her eyes. “I taught him everything he knew.”

She raised her chin higher, hinting I had no effect.

“In the end, he went quite mad.” I nodded, remembering how far I’d pushed him and then slid my fingers around her neck. “Do you understand why I’m telling you this?”

She stood there quite still, hoping to understand her dangerous fixation, lulled by the numerous frissons I was causing her to feel.

I loosened my grip. “That little voice inside your head that’s screaming, ‘you’re daring too close to the flame,’ you should listen to it.”

“So you admit I’m close?” She shivered against my touch.

“I’m not sure whether you want me to protect you from it, or deliver it unto you?”

The sound of rain striking the roof filled the tomb, disallowing any chance of tranquility, and yet, it seemed to calm her.

Delicate blue veins teased along Ingrid’s neck, and I tilted her head to better expose them. “It takes less than a minute to drain a mortal.”

She inclined her neck further, revealing her fearlessness.

“My sweet moth,” I said and held her gaze.

Silence wrapped around us as time itself held its breath, quietly coaxing us to that secret place of sighs and whispers where we might just lose ourselves completely and truly find each other.

I let her go. “I think I’ve made my point.”

Disappointment danced in her eyes and she blushed softly.

“You’re truly exquisite,” I said.

Her lips trembled and her thoughts carried. I have to hold on.

“I’m not sure that’s the answer.” I straightened the vase upon the stand and slid my fingertip over the chink. “Evidence of a moment frozen in time.” I caressed the porcelain. “What passed between us is captured here.”

“Is Orpheus really in there?” she asked.

“He is.” Though I hated lying to her and considered whether I’d started believing Orpheus was indeed entombed here.

That part of me that had once reveled in cruelty, savoring the seductive quality of torture, was now more drawn to exploring the sublime, that which promised to hold my attention, and I wondered if such a desire could ever be quenched.