Merlin looked bewildered. “She’s fighting me, or–” He moved closer to her body. “Her essence is too strong. She’s something I’ve never encountered before. Her body resists my magic.”
“Then force her to accept it!” Krieger knew with each second Lily was drifting further away.
“I cannot.”
Krieger took a step back. “My blood.”
“It is a high price to pay.”
Lily wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Krieger had experienced this moment many times on myriad battle fields. It was the death rattle.
“Liam,” Krieger yelled out.
Liam entered the room. “Master.” His chest rose as his lungs heaved in the blood laden air.
“The scent you mentioned earlier. The one you picked up in the woods. Did you smell it on the stairs?”
“Yes. It’s like a ghost scent, not real, and yet there.” The Vantors could track anything made of flesh and blood, but this had baffled them.
Krieger nodded and turned back to look down at Lily. He was intensely displeased with the current situation. “Arrange a perimeter while we are here. Merlin and I need complete privacy. Did any of the guests see her fall?”
“No, they are only permitted in the party area. No one seems to be looking for her.”
“Very well, after we are done here, take out all the books, everything that looks of any importance. Merlin will help you decide. Make sure they are transported to Stoke.”
Liam backed out of the room and shut the door.
Quickly, Krieger stripped off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and went to the sofa. He lifted Lily up and slid behind her, creating a pillow with his body. Positioning her head against his shoulder, he ran his hands down her arms. Even in sleep, Lily’s body reacted in pain to his touch. “Leave us,” he ordered Merlin.
Krieger barely waited long enough for Merlin to obey before slicing open his own wrist with his fangs. He pressed the wound to her lips.
“Drink, little one, drink,” he murmured.
She did nothing.
He tilted her head back and opened her mouth enough that his blood dripped down her throat. With each drop he felt the small stirring of her being take root inside him.
The older a vampire, the more potent their blood. His blood was over two thousand years old, and could heal almost any human wound. Gently, he stroked her hair, watching as her breathing became easier. He pushed the broken bone back into place while she was unconscious.
She drank more blood than was necessary, her small hand had wrapped around his wrist, not wanting him to pull away. He would need to feed soon. Careful not to awaken her, he slid off the sofa. “Sleep well, little one.”
Merlin opened the door enough to ask, “Can I get you anything?”
Krieger waved him inside the room. “No.”
Merlin shook his head. “I didn’t foresee any of this.”
“You worry too much.”
“Arrogance.” Merlin walked to stand by the fire. “Your blood will live on, even if she does not. What will happen if she falls into the wrong hands? She could be drained of blood and yours with it.”
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Krieger’s voice was cold.
Merlin smiled. “Yes I am, but did I not warn you there is always a price to be paid?” He grabbed the poker, stabbing at the fire. “You must ready yourself.”
“I grant you, bonding is rare.” His fingers, thick and adept at killing, delicately separated a tress of her hair. He caught himself and looked at Merlin.
“The process has already begun.” Merlin said the words with a strange finality, and turned his back on Krieger to stare at the fire.
“I need to take care of something.” Krieger walked to the door. “See that she’s comfortable,” he said over his shoulder to Merlin, before closing the door behind him.
Krieger knew about Martha and the role she’d played in Lily’s life. He also knew that Lily could not simply disappear. And so he went in search of Martha and found her sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. He sat down next to her, capturing her eyes and putting her into a light trance. He looked out at the pool, which was right outside the windows, and thought of Lily lying in the sun.
“My name is Krieger Barnes.”
“Of course,” she smiled, relaxing into his trance. “You’re even more handsome without a shirt.”
Krieger’s shirt was stained with Lily’s blood. He’d taken it off before searching for Martha. He had no idea what Martha was referring to; he’d not met her before. A vampire’s trance, done effectively, elicited complete honesty from humans. He lifted his eyebrow in question.
“Lily had it with her. It’s a lovely painting. She shouldn’t have folded it.”
“Where is this painting?”
“In her room, on the side table.”
“Relax, enjoy your coffee. I will be back in a moment.”
It took only a second for him to reach Lily’s room, and another until he found the painting. He’d known about his keepers’ journals and how they passed them down from one generation to the next. It had seemed harmless until now. Cornelius Ayres must have painted this from memory around the 1850s. Cornelius was his favorite keeper, so much that he’d offered to make him vampire.
“Walter.” He shook his head.
Martha was peacefully looking out the windows when he returned. He joined her again at the table.
“Tell me about Lily’s mother.”
“An angel, she was, if ever there was one on earth.” Martha’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “And beautiful, so beautiful, she stopped traffic.” Martha laughed. “That’s the God’s honest truth.”
“Such a woman would have many male admirers.” He winked at her. “Am I right?”
“Oh, Mr. Barnes, you should have seen them. Such handsome men, and me, well, I was younger then. Let’s just say a few of them turned my head.”
He smiled.
“Poor things, they couldn’t stay away from her. Like moths to the flame.”
“Did she favor anyone else, besides Walter?”
Instantly, her face went blank.
“Try to remember,” he pressed.
“I…” Martha’s hand started to shake. “There was…” She looked confused.
It was obvious to him that another vampire had tranced her to remove the memory. If he continued to press he would damage her.
“It’s not important.” He waited until the muscles in her shoulders eased. “Listen carefully. I want you to remember how I was at the party last night. I am an old family friend. You and Lily have met me many times before.”
Martha relaxed and nodded.
“If anyone should ask about me, do not hesitate to tell them what I have told you.”
“Of course.”
“Lily’s going away. We left this morning for a…” He faltered, searching for the correct word. “I’m taking her on holiday. She’ll be staying with me at my home on the mountain.”
A frown deepened the creases of her face.
“Speak to me, what troubles you?”
“Lily isn’t well.”
Her connection to the girl was very strong to express doubt while tranced. “Yes, I know. Do you know what happened to her?”
“The accident, her collar bone.”
“Yes,” he said. “She’s healed now.” He felt Lily’s mother was important and decided to try and work his way back through the years. “Martha, tell me about Marissa. Before Lily was born, did something happen to her?”
“I’m not to speak of it.”
“Martha.” Krieger stroked her hand. “There is nothing you cannot tell me. Take all the time you need.”
Martha sat very still. “Old Mr. Ayres, the dark room,” she whispered.
“You mean Walter’s father?”
She nodded.
“The dark room?”
She began shaking. He would need to try a different way. “Nothing can hurt you now,” he reassu
red her. “Whatever happened is in the past, and it has no power over you.” He tried again, but wasn’t optimistic that she would remember, or could remember. “Did someone hurt you, in the dark room?”
Martha started to cry. A vampire’s trance could erase and replace memories. Martha’s memory of the event was erased, but the vampire had not created another, which explained her anxiety. Even when a memory was replaced, the human would still retain the emotions or feelings connected to the original event. Those were things a vampire could not change.
“Was it Walter?”
“No, he’d not hurt a fly.”
“Randolph, Walter’s father, did he hurt you?”
Her tears told him the truth.
“And Marissa, did he hurt Marissa, maybe in the dark room?”
She was frozen with fear, a look of horror on her face.
He changed subjects. “Lily was beautiful last night.”
It took a few minutes for Martha to relax and let go of her fear. He waited and used the time to think. He’d never meddled in the human affairs of his keepers. Never, ever, were the women of the family to have any contact with him. It was an oath he’d made to Catherine, the first of the Ayres’ line, an oath he’d broken now to protect Lily. For Randolph to introduce another vampire into the family, who terrorized the women and then tranced out their memories, was unthinkable.
Feeling it was safe to resume, he asked, “Who was the man that sat with you like this? You remember, he talked to you and helped you to forget certain things.”
Her earlier fear gone, she smiled. “He was handsome, too.”
“His name?”
She shook her head. It was another dead end. He didn’t know the identity of the vampire responsible, but he now knew a little about him. Either there wasn’t enough time to finesse alternative memories or the vampire didn’t care or think that it would be of importance. It took a great deal of arrogance and recklessness to invade another vampire’s territory.
“Martha.” He waited until she turned and met his eyes. “Lily will heal. She will be healthy and happy. You can let go and stop worrying about her now.” He stroked her hand. “I promise that she shall never want for anything.”
Martha cried. Fat tears slid down her round cheeks and dropped onto the table. He knew this was a common human reaction of relief, but he didn’t understand it. How strange humans were.
“Now tell me, how you will explain where Lily is?”
“Oh, she went with a family friend to. . .”
“The mountains,” he prompted.
“Yes, how silly of me, the mountains for a little vacation.”
He waved his hand in front of her eyes. “After I’ve left, you will remember what I’ve told you. You are very happy for Lily. You have no worries for her at all because she is with me. Nod if you feel happy and content that she is safe.”
Martha smiled and nodded. He released her from his gaze and went to stand in the doorway. Martha was now peacefully looking outside as if nothing had just occurred. He left here there, knowing he’d done what he could.
Krieger paused to stare at Marissa Ayres’ portrait on his way back to the underground areas of Waverly. He searched for any trace of Lily, trying to find even the smallest resemblance, but there was none that he could see. He could feel Lily stirring through their newly formed blood bond. Rising to the uppermost shelves in the two-story library, he reached for a nondescript red leather-bound book, and removed it to expose the back of the bookcase. He pressed his finger against a small raised area. Below, a portion of the floor slid back. Placing the book back on the shelf, he floated down to the steps and walked underground, closing the access behind him.
He heard Merlin’s pacing long before he opened the door.
“She has a fever.” Merlin looked down and up at him, almost like a professor looking over his reading glasses. “We need to leave for Stoke immediately.”
Krieger shouldered past him. Lily’s body was covered in sweat. Her eyes fluttered erratically behind her eyelids. His blood should have completely healed her. She should be resting comfortably now.
He nodded to Merlin and sat down at Walter’s desk. Using Walter’s computer, he accessed a secure website and typed in his encryption passwords. Krieger knew Merlin had something to say, but he didn’t want to hear it now. “It is done.” Krieger softened his tone. “She will adjust.”
The two men exchanged a glance. “As you wish.” Merlin nodded and left.
Turning back to the computer, Krieger typed in his message and hit the send button.
Lily feverishly mumbled something. He rolled back the chair and watched her. Her heart was beating too fast. The chime of a new email message made him roll back behind the desk. Once again, he input his password to access the email.
He read the message twice before replying, acknowledging receipt. The vampires of his realm were very adept at technology. He had just informed his subjects that Lily was not only his human, but was the living vessel of his blood. The message read:
Lily Consuelo Ayres is now Sanguis Ancilla to the King of North America. Attempting harm or abetting in harm, of any kind, to the Sanguis Ancilla will be deemed treason. Attempting to separate the Sanguis Ancilla from her Master, or engaging in actions to diminish their bond, will be deemed treason. Treason is a crime against the Crown, punishable by death.
His edict would be read by his subjects and in every Royal House of Vampire around the world. That should lure the cockroaches out into the light. He didn’t know yet what Walter had done, what he was so afraid of, but he knew that something or someone would come looking for Lily.
Chapter Six
“Let’s see what we can see.” Hunter sat down at his old desk with a glass of scotch and booted up his computer. He’d followed orders, overseen the cleanup, and watched the removal of all the evidence. Afterwards, he’d gone to his favorite restaurant for a steak, sitting at the bar to eat and watch the late night news. And what do you know; there was nothing, not one little word about the murders.
He’d expected to hear that someone else had taken over the case. Perhaps a more senior investigator, or even the inspector herself, but instead there nothing. It was like the crime never happened.
Not wanting to speak on a mobile, he’d waited until reaching home to call the reverend. A maid answered the phone. She said the reverend had been called to Wales unexpectedly. His sister had suffered a stroke.
His next call was to the inspector, who was also unavailable. He called her mobile. The message said that she wouldn’t be in for at least two weeks.
He’d stopped believing in coincidences over the years.
With increasing foreboding, Hunter dialed the other members on the team today. Each and every one had called in or left word that they had urgent business and would not be back to service for a while.
He reached across the desk and pulled the H&K pistol into his lap. Moving slowly, listening to every creak of the old house, he followed along the wall, sure to stay away from the windows as he turned off the lights all the way to the back bedroom. There he could look down at the street below without being seen.
It was late enough that if someone were watching him they’d think he’d gone to bed. Was he being paranoid? Had that been the inspector’s voice on the phone ordering him to stand down?
He watched the street for movement. Maybe on a different day he would have shrugged it off, gone home and drunk himself into oblivion. If he hadn’t been so blasted hungry and decided to go in search of a good steak that might have happened.
His eyes caught movement behind old lady Marble’s shrub. After a few more moments, he watched the person move, hugging the house to stay in the shadows. They were very careful and skillful in using the darkness to their advantage. If it hadn’t been for a passing car he’d never have caught a glimpse of the man. His skin was very pale and he was completely dressed in black. He was focused on the upstairs window which Hunter was looking through. Almost
like he could see him watching, like he knew he was hiding behind the curtain.
At the age of forty-two Hunter was world weary. He’d given his life to law enforcement, run off every good woman he’d met, because the job required all his attention. Damn, he’d become such a cliché. Even a day cleaning up two dismembered bodies was easy for him to shake off. But this, standing here in the dark feeling like prey, was something he’d not experienced.
Breathe in through the nose, out the mouth; he’d learned the calming technique from yoga class. The inspector insisted they all attend one day a week in the assignment room. He focused his mind on what to do next. Julia, whose backyard butted up against his yard, was on holiday right now. All he needed to do was get out of his house undetected and place a call to dispatch.
Taking one last glance out the window, he saw the man had moved once more. This time he was crouched behind a van, still looking up at the window. Hunter hugged the wall and walked out into the hallway and down the stairs, careful to spread out his weight on each tread. He peered out the back door. Still nothing in the yard. Slipping out the door, he silently shut and locked it, and stealthily moved to the back gate and quickly into Julia’s yard.
He knew she hid a spare key inside her garden hose. They’d had a casual sexual relationship for years. He suspected it wasn’t his physical charm which enticed her, but the false security she felt at shagging someone who was in law enforcement.
He was in the house with the door closed within minutes. Once again, careful to stay out of sight, he went directly to the back bedroom bath. The small window there would allow him to see the whole back of his home.
Standing on top of the loo, he peered out the window. Five minutes, then ten, then thirty minutes passed. He started to think he’d had too much scotch. Maybe he needed a holiday.
Just as he was stretching his leg to step down he saw the man again. If he hadn’t been standing exactly where he was, he would have never seen the man pass by the back window. He was inside Hunter’s home now, moving about.
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