Immortal Sins by Amanda Ashley Page A

the colors of the rainbow. One of his former owners had spent hours in front of the screen. Rourke had watched, too, though he had not always understood what he was seeing, or hearing. Shows like Batman, The Twilight Zone, Star Trek, The Rifleman, Gunsmoke, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, My Favorite Martian , and Laugh-In . His favorites had been Dark Shadows and The Addams Family. Dark Shadows hadn’t been intended to be a comedy, but he had found the life and times of Barnabas Collins rather amusing. Rourke couldn’t recall now if Collins had ever turned into a bat. It was something Rourke, himself, had never tried. He grinned, wondering what it would be like. In his time, he had transformed into mist and into a wolf, but never a bat. It seemed undignified, somehow.
    “What are you smiling at?” Kari asked.
    “I was thinking about turning into a bat.”
    “Can you really do that? Be a bat?”
    “I have no idea. I have never tried.”
    She stopped walking, her hands fisted on her hips, her head tilted to one side. “I’d like to see it.”
    “Here, now?” he asked, glancing up and down the street. “Might cause quite a stir, I should think.”
    “Yes,” Kari said, grinning, “I suppose it would. Might even make the news. ‘Man turns into bat on Main Street. Film at eleven.’”
    Rourke regarded her for a moment, and then he laughed. Times were different now. When he had first been made, everyone believed in vampires. Grisly steps had been taken to make certain that those suspected of being Undead didn’t rise again. Heads were lopped off, hearts torn out and burned, bodies buried facedown so that if the dead tried to dig their way out of their graves, they would, instead, dig deeper into the earth. People had hung strings of garlic around their doorways and windows and displayed crosses and crucifixes in prominent places.
    With a rueful shake of his head, he continued on down the street.
    “I still can’t believe you’re really a vampire,” Kari said, hurrying to catch up with him. “Are there any more of your kind?”
    “I am sure there are a few, here and there.”
    “How can that be? I mean, how is it that nobody knows vampires exist?”
    He didn’t reply, merely looked at her, waiting for her to reach the obvious conclusion.
    “Oh. I guess you’d rather keep it a secret.” She laughed nervously. “In case Van Helsing is lurking around the next corner.”
    He nodded, and then wondered if there were any other vampires in the city, and if vampire hunters still existed.
    “I don’t believe any of this!” she exclaimed. And yet, as impossible as it seemed, she knew it was true. He was a 767-year-old vampire. “Where do you sleep during the day?”
    “Nowhere in particular at the moment. Just some place out of the sun’s reach.”
    “That’s the reason I could never find you in the painting during the day, isn’t it?” Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled the glowing red eyes she had seen in her dream. “You were sleeping in the cellar of the castle.”
    He nodded, his expression shuttered.
    “I had a dream…at least I think it was a dream. It seemed so real. Were you…did you see me there, in the cellar?”
    He nodded again. He recalled that night vividly. The pain had been excruciating. He had been about to go outside and feed off the horse when Karinna appeared in the cellar. At first, he had thought she was real, but then he had realized it was only a dream. Had she been flesh and blood, he would have taken her then, taken her and drained her dry.
    As if reading his mind, Kari stopped walking. “I think I want to go home. Enjoy the rest of your walk.”
    “You cannot be rid of me so easily, Karinna Adams.”
    She scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “I like your company, and I do not know anyone else in this country or in this century.”
    “I’ll introduce you to someone,” she said with a toss of her head. “Good night.”
    Grinning, he watched