It only made his guilt that much more wrenching.
“What’s there to know?” Jim asked. “She’s talking about vampires, Roman.”
Roman didn’t say anything. It was the word they’d never uttered no matter what the injuries on the dead victims suggested, and despite the fact that Lily Maldonado had been discovered drained completely of any blood in her tiny body. If they broached the subject, they mentioned that a suspect wanted it to look like a vampire.
Only Adele had the courage enough to say that was what the suspect actually was.
And she was the only one who saw the assailant.
“I’m not saying she doesn’t have problems,” Roman said. “I’m just saying she’s not a killer. And I’m not going to drag her reputation through the mud in order to prove to you what I already know.”
Jim sighed. “Listen, Roman. We’ve known each other for years. You know I trust you. But I think you’re a little too close to this case. We’ll do it your way for now. But if one more thing happens, I will take it to the D.A. myself and he’ll make the decisions then.”
“Deal,” Roman conceded, hoping that nothing else would happen to incriminate Adele. Only now, he couldn’t be sure.
Adele wandered the familiar hallway, the doors still locked. A voice boomed all around her. “If you love him, you will do it.”
“Love who?” she demanded. She ran faster down the hall, banged on more doors, twisted unyielding doorknobs. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
She spun around to see Isabel once again standing behind her. “The time is right,” she stated simply and pushed Adele right through a door.
Adele teetered right on the edge of the door jamb, hovering over the black abyss below. Her long nails dug into the wood of the door frame, splintering tiny shards underneath her fingernails. Beneath were voices, lots of voices, and hideous, shrieking laughter that almost sounded like cries of pain. She glanced helplessly at Isabel, whose black eyes began to squirm and ooze thick black liquid as her whole body fell apart into huge angry rats that scattered across the door frame, over Adele’s bare feet. With a screech Adele fell backwards, engulfed in blackness.
She fell hard and fast until she landed right in her hospital bed.
This jolted Adele awake in the still, cold hospital room. She was tied to the rails with restraints on her wrists. Her lungs felt hollow, as if her chest was devoid of any more sobs, and she felt more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.
She had no way of knowing Michael had just left his steady post at her bedside to visit Dani, who was on another floor receiving a critical blood transfusion.
Michael approached the pale girl’s bed on the side where bandages patched up her wound. He crossed himself before gently pulling away the bloody gauze to investigate the bite mark, to see it for himself.
Two holes were punched into the side of her bruised neck. They moved as though breathing, and virtually seemed to hiss when Michael pulled the ornate bottle from his pocket.
He gulped before sprinkled the holy water over Dani. “In nomine Patris, et Filee, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”
The wounds began to writhe and scream; the flesh sizzled and burned as the water splashed against the two angry red holes. Nasty green liquid began to pump from the holes and Dani convulsed unconsciously. The monitors went crazy and several nurses burst into the room.
They were too busy to notice as Michael fell backwards, tripping right into a chair. “It’s true,” he whispered. “God help us, it’s true.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Adele gulped her pills and swigged from her bottle of water. She shoved the medicinal bottle to the bottom of her bag and hid it under her desk as Duncan approached.
“Nice to have you back,” he stated, his sarcasm pointed as he perched on the edge of her desk.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she opened her file on the serial killings, which now contained a lead story from Denise Carter on Dani’s attack and Adele’s rescue.
“It concerns me that you were scooped on a story where you were the eye witness.” She said nothing as she absently rubbed her wrists, which still bore the bruises from the hospital restraints. Duncan sighed. “You know, we’ve had this trouble before”
“And I’ve always handled it before,” she interrupted.
“Addie, you’re a damned fine reporter, you and I both know that. But I have a business to run. I can’t baby sit you and your problems.”
That hurt. “I’m not asking you to babysit me, Sam.”
He sighed. “I think it’s time to give this story to Ed.”
“No!” Her sharp tone didn’t sit well with Duncan. He stood up and squared his shoulders.
“I can do this,” Sam,” she asserted. “No more problems. My hand to God.”
“You don’t believe in God,” he reminded her.
She laughed. It was a hollow, humorless sound. “I’m not half as smart as I thought I was a week ago.”
He sighed again as he glanced over her pallid features. “Me either, I guess. Because I’m going to let you keep your story. But the next time you screw up…”
“I’ll bring the tar. You bring the feathers.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned for the door. He was nearly mowed down by Brian in the process, who was on his way into the office in a hurry. Duncan just grunted as he sidestepped him. For a newsman, he was a man of few words.
“Sorry, boss,” Brian called after him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Duncan mumbled. Brian closed the door after him.
“Who’s got your back?” Brian asked smiling wide. He dropped a note on her desk with a name scribbled on it.
“What’s this?”
“Denise Carter’s secret weapon. This is her source.”
She looked up at him with surprise. “How did you get it?”
He grinned big. “You’re not the only one with tricks up their sleeve. I used a little good old fashioned charm on Denise’s assistant and she sang like a canary. She said this guy seems to know what is going to happen before it happens.”
“Here’s to good old fashioned charm,” Adele said as she gathered her things.
The address took her to a narrow street in the oldest part of Darlington. This was where most of the gypsies congregated; along the streets were psychics and tarot readers, occult book stores and magic shops. It was new territory for Adele. She had long come to dismiss it all as whimsy at best. Deep in her heart, though, she harbored some darker suspicious that it was just another capitalist con on the weak minded, who needed something to believe to get through day after monotonous day.
The clanging bell above the door announced her arrival into a musty old bookstore. The place was dimly lit and smelled strongly of frankincense. The bookshelves went all the way from the floor to the high ceilings on either side of the room, with a bunch of smaller bookshelves in between. She made her way down the very narrow aisle to the counter where smoke rose hypnotically from an incense burner.
Hello?” she called out. No one answered, so she browsed the aisle as she waited. Books that talked about witchcraft, spells, past lives, astrology and even creatures of the night lined the jam-packed shelves.
She pulled out an old hardback titled “Vampires, Myth, Legend and Fact.” As she opened the musty book and flipped through the yellowing pages, she found a photo of a figure in a black hooded cloak, whose eyes were as burning yellow as the sun. She gasped and the book slipped right through her fingers, landing on the floor with a thud.
“What do you want?” a voice came from behind. She whirled around to face the slight man with long hair as dark as her own barely covering a scar that scrawled from the edge of his ear to the bridge of his nose. He wore black from head to toe, as though he spent his nights headlining for a rock band. There were silver rings nearly all of his fingers, leather and stone bracelets on each wrist and his short fingernails were painted pitch black.
She sucked
in a breath to realize it was the same man she nearly ran over as she ran from the church during Lily’s funeral. She was so taken aback that she stammered as she answered his question.“Nothing,” Adele said while retrieving the book. “Just browsing.”
He snatched the book from her hand. “You’re lying,” he stated, shoving the book back into place. He turned from her astonished expression and headed back toward the counter.
“Excuse me?” she finally said.
“You’re lying,” he repeated as he perched on a stool. “Nobody comes in here just to browse.”
“Not even tourists?” she challenged.
“Not even tourists,” he answered. “People who come in here have specific questions and want precise answers. It’s more than curiosity that pulls them through that door. It’s a purpose. And you want to know about vampires.”
Her mouth dropped open. She was shaken, but tried her level best to recover. “Fine. I’m here to meet with Vincent.”
“What do you want with him?” he asked.
“I’m a reporter,” she began but he cut her off.
“I know who you are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re Vincent,” she finally concluded.
He nodded. “I am.”
“I’m here because I believe you have information on what’s going on with the child murders here in Darlington.”
He chuckled; it was a hollow, humorless sound. “Like I said, you want to know about vampires.”
She shook her head. “I’m not here to entertain whimsy.”
“Whimsy? And what do you suppose it was that you saw?”
Again she was rattled, again she suppressed it. “It seems you know more about me than I know about you.”
He said nothing as he pulled a book from under the counter. As it fell open tons of newspaper clippings slipped from the pages. He pushed it across the counter to her and then leaned back.
She began to sift through the clippings from different towns, from different decades and even different centuries. All had the same gruesome headlines detailing the same type of killer, the same type of victim, and the same damn story. There was only one thing missing from the Darlington accounts: the word vampire. “Has Denise Carter seen these?” she demanded suddenly.
He did not seem startled by the question. He just shook his head.
“So why have you decided to play this game on me then?”
He grabbed the book and slammed it shut. “Why do you come looking for answers only to question them?”
“Because vampires are not real,” she retorted. “You might as well tell me the Easter Bunny is going on a rampage.”
He said nothing as he studied her. Without a word he rounded the counter and began tugging books from the shelves. He approached and dumped them rather unceremoniously into her arms.
“Read these,” he instructed. “If you still believe that vampires aren’t real then you’ve done nothing more than waste some time.”
She was on the verge of telling him where he could stick his books when she looked down and saw a drawing of the same hooded creature from the forest. That meant two of the old books in her hands showed the exact same monster she’d seen face to face. Could it really be a mere coincidence?
“But if you do read it,” he said softly. “I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know.”
Her eyes met his. There was something deeply hidden there, something that caused her refusal to play his game die on her lips. Something in her gut prompted her to step out on faith.
What other choice did she have?
She met up with Michael at the hospital, who was holding vigil in Dani’s room. Adele straightened the covers around the unconscious child. “Any change?” she asked Michael.
He shook his head. “No, but she’s holding on. She’s strong.”
Adele nodded.
“How are you?” he asked softly.
She shrugged and took a seat in the extra chair. “Going out of my mind, thanks for asking.”
He didn’t say anything. She was still working it all through, he could tell by the way she studied him. “Why didn’t you tell me about the bites on Lily’s neck?” she asked softly.
He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “What do you want me to say, Adele? Honestly? You’d never have believed me anyway.”
“That never stopped you before,” she accused with a slight grin, but he didn’t even smile. That alone scared her half to death. “And that’s why she wasn’t laid out in the church?”
He nodded. “Isabel told the Maldonados not to, and they listen to everything she says. I thought she was crazy at the time, but…” he trailed off, looking back at Dani. “Now I don’t know what to believe.”
Her eyes followed his, landing on the wounded girl who was fighting from one minute to the other to survive. “What the hell kind of priest are you anyway,” she asked softly, tears hovering in her eyes.
He met her gaze. “I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
She hated to see him like that. It was bad enough she was questioning her own sanity. She needed Michael to be what he always was to her – her source of strength. “I want you to do something for me,” she said.
“Anything,” he promised immediately.
“I think it’s time I talked to Isabel.”
He nodded, knowing that if she was willing to speak to a psychic, things were definitely taking a turn for the worse. Adele stood, kissed Dani’s forehead and left.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Adele answered the persistent knock on the door, stunned to find the tall and striking Thaddeus on her doorstep. As before, his intense and unusual gaze set her off center, despite the fact he was carrying a rather impressive bouquet.
“Yes?” she queried, using the door as a brace between them.
“Miss,” he bowed. “Nicholas has requested your company for the evening.” He held out the bouquet of blood red roses.
She didn’t know what to say. Never before had she been sent a human invitation. What would Miss Manners suggest as proper etiquette, she wondered. She finally opened the door a bit more, giving shelter to this strange man from the wind.
“Come on in,” she said, stepping aside.
He bowed again in thanks as he stepped into the tiny hallway. She took the flowers and headed toward the kitchen. He silently followed.
“Does Mr. Sterling always send you to retrieve his dates?” she asked, grabbing a vase from the cabinet and filling it with water.
“This is the first time,” he admitted. “You must be special.”
She chuckled. She was far from convinced of that. She arranged the flowers, doing anything and everything to not look into those eyes. “I think your employer is just an unusual case.”
“You have no idea,” Thaddeus purred. “He has dinner prepared,” he said as he turned to leave. “The car is outside waiting.”
With that he was gone. There was never a question if she would accept the unusual invitation; it was just assumed that she would. Adele turned once again to the roses. Nicholas was persistent, she thought. With the phone messages she hadn’t answered while in the hospital, to the flowers delivered regularly to her office, sending her partner in crime Brian into hives, he had not let her forget his presence.
And though she tried her level best to do just that, she found that she couldn’t. She thought about him in the odd, quiet times when she paused to catch her breath. When she’d shower or bathe, or as she was drifting off to sleep, his face would float in front of her mind’s eye and she could practically feel his warm, strong embrace. It was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected. Had she not been so distracted by the terrifying events surrounding her beloved Dani, she’d probably have run deliriously into his arms just to feel it again. He began to fill in a silhouette she had never noticed was hiding in the corners of her troubled psyche. The thought of his hands on her body, the promise of his kiss on her lips, had her thoughts going where they had never
before gone.
“What is wrong with me?” she wondered with a sigh. She was far too old to go gaga over some charming, good-looking stranger. But it was more than that, the other part of her insisted. There was something deeper. Falling headlong into that dark, intense gaze was the safest place she’d ever found. For Adele, that was a big deal.
She didn’t even bother to change as she grabbed her purse and ran for the door before she could talk herself out of it.
If anyone needed safety at that moment, it was Adele.
Her heart raced all the way back to the hotel. As she drew closer she could almost feel him. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and she grew more and more anxious to be with him. It was as if his heart called her name, and even though she knew it would be better to deny that calling, she found she really didn’t want to resist. She had been flooded with negative emotions for as long as she could remember. Now her body flushed at the mere thought of him, and it wasn’t at all unpleasant.
She thought about Michael with a guilty grin. He wouldn’t recognize her. He’d never seen her fall for any guy. Not even him.
She sighed as she thought of her oldest and dearest friend, which grounded her back in reality again. So many people thought they would get married one day and were shocked when he entered the priesthood. They’d been thick as thieves all their lives; they never dated anyone else, they seemed perfectly content to spend every waking moment with each other or at least talking to each other over the phone.
Even Brenda was surprised that they never got involved. And perhaps they would have, Adele thought, fighting back a tear, if her whole life hadn’t come apart one fortuitous night roughly ten years before.
It was then she knew that she loved him too much to burden him with her problems. No one deserved that, especially Michael. He was the kindest, most loving person she knew. So she distanced herself and was almost relieved when he took his vows of celibacy. Her one true temptation was now safely guarded. All the teenage fantasies of her youth were now tucked away behind the very comforting collar that he wore.
My Immortal Page 8
