“No.” Cass slapped her open palms on the table. “That can’t be right.”
“The victims were killed in a variety of ways, but the prints match.” Boaz nudged a stack of papers over to her that she ignored. “The music left playing on their phones ties them together.”
“What’s wrong?” I shot to her side. “Talk to me.”
“He went from Greenville to Charleston to Portsmouth to Savannah and then here, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Boaz glanced up from the map. “How did you know?”
“That’s the last hundred years of my life.” She swallowed hard. “That’s the path I took that led me here.”
Concern twisting my gut, I stroked her back. “Who would have followed you all this way?”
“Sydney Delacorte.” A shudder rippled through her shoulders. “I thought he was dead.”
The name was unfamiliar, and that troubled me. “Who is that?”
“The man who had me resuscitated.” She wet her lips. “My first master.”
The same master she had refused to talk about, even to me, her best friend.
“Your master?” Parker scowled at her. “Why didn’t you mention this connection sooner?”
“She didn’t know,” I defended her. “I told her Boaz was working the case here because they mirrored an ongoing investigation in Savannah. I found out later the killer had come down from Maine, but I didn’t tell Cass. Savannah is hours away. How could she have put together this had anything to do with her?”
“Ari.” Pinkish tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “I should have suspected when they took Ari.”
Of course, she skipped right to blaming herself instead of the person responsible.
“You had no connections to the other victims,” I reminded her. “Other than them being vampires too.”
A town this small, of course they all knew one another, but that didn’t make them buddies.
“We need all the information you can give us,” Boaz said gently. “Starting with a description.”
“Yeah.” She shook it off. “Of course.” She cloaked herself in aloofness. “I’ll tell you everything.”
The details she relayed made it clear why he had been able to move around undetected.
Brown hair. Brown eyes. Five foot six. No tattoos, no birthmarks, no freckles, no moles.
The picture she painted of him was startlingly dull, but he had proven he excelled in one area.
Too bad, according to her, he had also burnt to a crisp when she took her revenge.
“I’ll call this in to Chambers.” Boaz pulled out his phone. “He can verify whether Delacorte is still around. There would be records of a fire that took out a master vampire. The Undead Coalition is a stickler about that kind of thing. They track their new masters closely to ensure they’re not growing their clans more quickly than they can control.”
Abernathy, who had moved closer to offer her comfort, asked, “Why would he be after you?”
“Like I said, he footed the bill.” Her hands flexed at her sides. “He thought that meant he owned me.”
I got a bad feeling where this was headed, but Boaz beat me to asking the question, and I was grateful.
“He had you resuscitated against your will,” Boaz surmised at the hitch in her voice.
“Yes,” she murmured, a bare whisper. “He was a customer of mine. He thought I loved him, but it was the act, you know? A good whore knows how to keep them coming back, and I was one of the best.”
“That’s all we need to know.” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to dig deeper.”
“I should have told you.” She shut her eyes. “He…beat me.” Her voice trembled. “He paid extra, so I didn’t get much say. The boss drew hard lines, she didn’t want me out of work, and he never crossed them. Until that night.” She drew in a long breath. “He went crazy, spouting all this nonsense about how we were going to be together forever. He was so riled up, he got carried away and almost killed me. There was blood everywhere. I begged for a physician, but he laughed and said it was all part of the plan.” She shook her head. “When I woke, I was a vampire, and he was my master.”
“Cass.” I brought her into my arms, and she curled around me, sobbing. “I’m so sorry.”
“One night I pumped a donor full of opium. Delacorte drained him and passed out.” Her fingers dug into me. “I evacuated the house, set it on fire, and it burned down around him.” She exhaled. “Or so I thought. Until tonight.”
Parker rubbed his jaw. “Were there any witnesses?”
“None.” Cass unwound from me. “We were a clan of two. It was always only him and me.”
How awful that must have been, to be the sole focus of his possessive fervor.
“Why would he wait so long to come after you?” Boaz tugged on his ear. “You said it’s been a century?”
“Thereabouts.”
“The killings started six months ago.” Abernathy drummed his fingers on the map. “That doesn’t line up for me.”
“Did anything change for you six months ago, Cass?” Honey sipped her tea. “Any anniversaries? Things like that?”
“No.” She let me help her into a chair. “Even if there was, why wait a century to act?”
“Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted revenge for his death? Any common enemies? Anything at all to help us narrow things down?” Parker frowned. “We’re missing something here.”
“I had a girlfriend, a real one, not a client, back when I was human.” She dropped her face into her hands. “She worked at the same brothel as me. When he found out, he went ballistic. He bought her one night and paid extra to take her home with him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I begged Madame not to let her go, but she said if I couldn’t beat his price for the night, I had to allow it.”
Most vampires spent a good bit of their lives accumulating wealth. I doubted this guy was any different. If Cass had bought her girlfriend for the night, it would have likely meant the difference in whether or not she ate that week. While he had a vampire’s resources to return until he bankrupted her.
“The sheriff came by the next morning at dawn.” More pink tears fell. “They found her swinging from the limb of an oak that wrapped around another until they merged. It overlooked a lake.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “If it’s him, and if he’s got Ari, if he was drawn to her because of our past, then he might recreate the scene with her.”
This might explain why he moved on Ari rather than Twyla’s parents. By that point, he must have known where to find Cass. What he wanted was to know how to hurt her. With our friendship secret, Twyla would have been right to name Ari as Cass’s last significant relationship, romantic or not.
“The other victims weren’t staged that way,” Abernathy reminded them. “From what we can tell, he interrogated his victims and then killed them.” He paused. “He might be less sentimental than you think.”
“What about the music?” Parker studied her. “Music was left playing at all the crime scenes.”
“Serena loved to dance. She sang too, but it made cats yowl in the alley.” Cass’s eyes turned glassy. “The one thing she loved about living over a saloon was the music from downstairs drifting up to us all day and all night. She was always humming.”
“He might be taunting you with it,” Boaz surmised. “He might still be using her to punish you.”
And in doing so, he was wrecking Cass’s good memories by associating them with those brutal deaths.
Scanning the table, I met the gaze of each person present. “Anyone got any better ideas?”
No one offered up a better idea. Collectively, we had none. We were grasping at straws.
“Haven Lake.” Cass wiped her eyes dry. “That’s my best guess.”
“The Lovers are there,” I realized then explained to Boaz. “A pair of oak trees that grew together into an arch over the path that leads to the gazebo overlooking the lake.”
�
�Then let’s go.” Boaz clapped his hands. “We’ll split into pairs and comb the area.”
“I’ll call Demaryius,” Cass said quietly. “He would want to be there for this, and he can bring help.”
A clan master searching for his mate and several of their peers familiar with her scent could only help.
“All right.” Boaz nodded. “Let’s move out.”
For Cass’s sake, I prayed we weren’t too late.
Seventeen
The park attached to the lake, where the Lovers resided, closed at sunset. There was an RV park about half a mile away, so the posted hours didn’t mean much. There was often traffic from the lake itself as well, so we would have to remain alert for humans.
Parker and Abernathy split into a team, Boaz and Honey paired off, and that left me with Cass.
Demaryius had yet to arrive, but he would be here soon. His clansmen ought to be on his heels, but we had no idea how much time we had left to locate Ari. If any. All Cass could say with any certainty was her girlfriend had been found at dawn.
There had been no postmortem, not that I would have expected much from one way back in the day, so there was no telling when she had actually died. The point was moot since Cass and her girlfriend had been whores, and no one had cared if they lived or died. Only that the beds in the brothel were kept full and warm each night.
“I’m still the same me,” Cass said softly. “What I said back there doesn’t change anything.”
The worry I would view her as a victim, as weak, stunned me. She was a survivor, and I was proud of her.
“I want to kill him with my bare hands for what he did to you.”
The tension smoothed from her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. He should have been staked and left out for the sun a long time ago.”
“All those people died…” she shook her head, “…so he could get me back.”
“Those deaths aren’t on you.” I took her hand. “None of this is your fault.”
“He killed them to get to me.”
“Cass.” I pulled her to a stop and got in front of her. “This? It’s not you. You don’t hide. You don’t scare. You don’t back down.” I jerked on her arm. “You’re a fighter. You taught me everything I know. You’re the most fearless woman I’ve ever met.” I frowned. “Don’t let him put you back in that box. Don’t let him diminish you again. Don’t give him what he wants.”
“You’re right.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “It’s…a lot to process.”
“You can break down later.” I smiled. “We’ll have a Keanu marathon. We can do it up big, make a whole weekend out of it. Just you and me.” I let her go. “But we have to get through this first.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Yeah.”
The defiant spark that made her my Cass ignited in her expression, and she regained her swagger. It wasn’t real, but it was a good fake. Only someone who knew her as well as I did could see beneath the mask.
“We’ll hit the Lovers first.” Her tone came out cool and confident. “I doubt he’s staging things yet, but he must have scoped out the area. I might pick up his scent if he’s been there already tonight.”
“Good plan.” I stepped aside and let her lead. “Listen to your gut, and we’ll catch him.”
Until we had a better plan, we had to move forward based on the assumption Delacorte was the killer.
“This time,” she said, her voice regaining its strength, “I’m going to watch the light go out of his eyes.”
“I’ll film it if you want, so you can watch the instant replay every night before bed and sleep secure in the knowledge you’re free, and he’s dead.”
“You’re too good to me.” She flashed a fangy smile over her shoulder. “We’re almost there.”
“How do you know your way around this park so well?”
“You’d be amazed how many guys think this place is romantic.” She shrugged. “If this lake could talk…”
The return to normal was a comfort while we were in the field, but after? I would hold her while she cried, screamed, whatever it took to get her to purge the hurt, the guilt, the loneliness of keeping such painful history to herself.
Eighteen
“I like her.”
“Good.” Boaz angled his head toward Honey. “I do too.”
“I got that about the time she announced you proposed to her.”
The reality wasn’t as romantic as Honey wanted it to be, but there was a spark between him and Addie, and Boaz understood enough to know he had to protect it at all costs and nurture it if he wanted it to grow.
He had never tried to make a woman fall in love with him. It just happened. No matter how he warned his lovers against it. This time with Honey had given him a refresher course on all his favorite tricks, and he was determined not to use them with Addie.
“You hear that?” Boaz lowered his voice and slowed his steps. “We’ve got movement up ahead.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she began then fell silent. “Oh. Yeah. I do hear it.”
They locked down the chatter and stuck close to each other, moving through the brush to keep out of sight from anyone walking the paths. Together they swept the area, closing in on the sound, and they came to a stop in front of the gazebo.
No one was there.
A cheap burner phone sat on the railing, playing a haunting song, the refrain one that chilled his blood.
You’ll get what’s coming, coming, coming to you.
Honey jerked her chin toward the phone, but his gut was twisting with a warning.
The noise had lured them out into the open. They were exposed. Anyone could see them now.
“No.” He caught her arm. “It’s a—”
Impact drove Boaz to the dirt, and his skull cracked against the edge of the lowest gazebo step. Blood ran down into his eye, and he blinked it away to find a female leaning over Honey. He could tell by the tingle dancing over his skin that she was a vampire.
“Freeze.” He drew his gun. “UV bullets won’t kill you, but they’ll hurt like a mother.”
The vampire hissed then sprinted into the woods.
“Honey?” He shoved to his feet and crossed to her. “You okay?”
“My…head…”
Eyes on the forest, alert for movement, Boaz gently slid his fingers behind her neck and worked his way up until he reached the back of her skull. His fingers came away wet and slick. Head wounds bled like crazy, but vampire strength could make even a shove lethal. He felt beneath her head, thankful for the improved night vision that made it easier to see.
“You hit a rock.” Boaz gathered her hands in one of his to keep her from reaching up to touch the wound in a daze. “I’m going to call this in and get you some help.”
The flash of blue and red emergency lights would scare off the killer, but Honey needed treatment now.
“That won’t be necessary,” a crisp voice informed him. “I’m Demaryius Willis.” He snapped his fingers. “This is Jack and Arlo. Arlo is healer. He can patch up your friend. Jack will stand watch to ensure no more harm comes to her.”
“I still need to touch base with command. The vampire who attacked us might be the killer.”
“I’ve already dispatched two of my people to track them down. That ought to suffice, for now.”
Demaryius must be afraid of spooking the killer worse. With his help, Boaz would let it ride.
As the clan master himself said—for now.
“Thanks.” Boaz reached for his phone. “You understand I’ll have to check your credentials.”
Scanning the area, Demaryius lifted his head to breathe in. “Of course.”
Boaz dialed Addie, who handed the phone to Cass, who asked to speak with Demaryius. With his hearing, Demaryius had been expecting the handoff and accepted. They spoke briefly, he handed the phone back, and Boaz got his confirmation.
“Honey will be safe with them,” Addie prom
ised him. “Demaryius will do anything to get Ari back.”
He didn’t know Cass well enough to trust her word, but he believed Addie.
“All right.” He checked with Honey, who gave her blessing for him to go. “Send me your coordinates, and I’ll meet up with you and Cass.”
“Or perhaps,” Demaryius offered, “you would prefer to partner with me.”
“Sure,” Boaz drawled, aware this was politics. “Scratch that, Addie. I’ll partner with Demaryius.”
“Be careful out there,” she said softly. “You promised me funnel cakes at our wedding, and I expect you to pay up.”
“You too.” The flash of grief he expected came, but it was dulled by the woman on the other end of the phone. “It’s down to you to educate me on how they’re any different from elephant ears. They’re both doughy, both fried, both served coated in powdered sugar. I expect answers.”
Her snort of laughter rang in his ears as he ended the call and met Demaryius’s stare.
“You understand what I’ve lost,” he observed. “I will do anything to get her back.”
Boaz was no stranger to grief, to loss, but he hadn’t experienced what Demaryius had with Ari. The vampire read him well, but not well enough. He misunderstood the affection Boaz had for Addie. It was a separate entity from the grief over his betrayal of Grier. They coexisted, overlapped, but they weren’t the same.
Though it was the height of rudeness to treat vampires like tracking hounds, they had excellent noses, and Boaz was going to use every resource available to him. “Can you scent the vampire who attacked us?”
“I can,” he said at length, shoving aside his dislike of the question. “It’s no one I’ve met before.”
The killer wasn’t local, so Boaz hadn’t expected Demaryius to be able to ID them. His hopes lay elsewhere. “Can you track them?”
The Redemption of Boaz Pritchard Page 12
