“I saw him.”
“Walter?”
“No.” She looked off to the right, clearly replaying it in her head. “The night you took me.”
“Saved you,” he corrected.
“That night,” she continued. “I was on the stone steps, looking down at the conservatory, I felt him, it, a presence. I mean, I felt something but I didn’t know what it was, just that it was dark and cold. It reached for me, I could feel it try and grab me. It’s what caused me to fall. I had to get away from it.”
He watched her walk over to the side table. She poured water into a glass, sipping it slowly. Her hand caressed the fabric of the chair.
“After the detective, what was his name?”
“Hunter,” he answered.
“Yes, after Detective Hunter gave his presentation, that’s when I saw him again. I felt the coldness in the same way, like I did that night. I can’t explain how I could see him.” Lily reached out her hand, palm vertical, miming the distance and space of where she’d seen him. “It was like looking in water. I could see him, and he me, but he wasn’t here.” Her hand dropped. “You believe me.” He nodded and Lily poured another full glass of water. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Have you ever seen him before?”
Lily wasn’t a good liar. She was holding something back. “No, I’ve never seen him before.”
“Describe him.”
“You think he’s the killer?”
He had no answer for her.
“He didn’t kill Walter. I know he didn’t.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“I just am, okay? I was wrong to be afraid of him. I need you to promise me something.”
“Are you asking me for a favor?”
“No, a promise, what I’m due.”
“Lily, your father has been murdered, but that does not change how you will speak to me.”
“I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman.” Krieger knew she was mulling over her thoughts. She reared her shoulders back, proud, and a little defiant. “I won’t be intimidated by you or anyone else. I’ve lived my whole life afraid. That ends tonight.”
Could it be his blood, or was this who she should have been if her body had not been starved? “It’s unwise to provoke a wild animal.”
“Is that what you are?” she snapped back. “A wild animal?”
“It was only a metaphor. You asked a promise of me.”
“Oh,” she mentally stumbled and regained her balance. “Well, along with treating me like an adult. I want to help find whoever did this.” Her eyes blazed with fury. “I want them dead.”
Yes, he thought, as do I.
“Even if they’re vampire, or an Other, or from your realm.” Lily sidestepped the chair and moved towards him, a little too quickly, too gracefully for only a mere human.
“The man you saw. Tell me about him.”
Lily started to pace again. “I don’t know anything else. He just appears out of nowhere.”
“Go on.”
“The way he looked at me, I could tell this was something he didn’t do. I mean, like he’s seeing me at the same time I’m seeing him, and neither of us is controlling it. You know?”
Krieger nodded.
“He isn’t trying to hurt me. Maybe he’s trying to tell me something.” She frowned.
“What,” he said sharply, “does he look like?”
“Oh.” She shifted her head back, thinking. “Dark brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Sandy colored hair, unruly, in a good way. Not long, not short, wavy.”
“How old is he? What is he wearing?”
“My age… no, older, maybe late twenties. I remember seeing a shirt collar, but I only really saw his face.”
“Could you describe him well enough for an artist to draw his likeness?”
She thought about it. “I think so.”
They were both silent, Krieger watching her closely. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“What?” Her eyes caught his again, and unlike before, she held his gaze. He liked the stronger Lily. “I feel numb. I should feel something, shouldn’t I?” She laughed nervously. “Did I really just ask you that?”
“You think me unfeeling?”
“I want to speak with the detective. Those pictures he showed.” She closed her eyes. “I think there is something there. I need to talk with him.”
Denying her would serve no purpose other than to appease his desire to seal her away. Carefully, he kept his demeanor calm, but inwardly he was reeling at the threat she was most assuredly facing. Could it be the Elder sending her these visions?
“Do you feel well enough?”
“I feel fine,” she said softly. “Stop treating me like I’m fragile.”
But you are, he thought. A stray lock of her hair, now the color of an angel’s wing, fascinated him; it glimmered in the light. “I like this, this quiet between us now.” He cupped the back of her neck and kissed the tender flesh of her ear.
“I don’t understand you.” She shivered. “Do you think he suffered?” Lily leaned into his chest.
“No,” he lied. “The injuries to his body were made after death.”
“Why? It doesn’t make any sense. Walter didn’t have any enemies.”
“It wasn’t just Walter. Gibson was killed with him, and Winston is still missing.”
“And this detective can help?” Her fingers had found the buttons of his shirt.
This bubble of closeness between them was a product of their blood exchange. She was wary of him, yet wanted to be near him. The feeling was impossible to explain or understand.
“The Elder thinks so.”
“There must be something I can do. Maybe it’s all connected somehow. I don’t know.”
She moved away from his embrace and caught her reflection in the mirror.
He watched her staring at her reflection like it was a stranger. She reached out to touch the glass, perhaps needing to validate that what she saw was truly her.
“As we age our blood becomes more potent.”
“You’re over two thousand years old.” She watched his reflection in the mirror.
“There are few older.” For a moment, he tried to imagine what he must seem like to her.
He watched her pull her long curly hair over her shoulder. His blood had turned her hair white, not gray, not light blonde, but a brilliant shade of white which accentuated her jewel colored eyes and pale skin. She looked ethereal and uncannily like the Elder.
“I couldn’t bear to be vampire.”
It caused him discomfort to be so near and not touch her. He moved in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. The top of her head barely reached his chest. “Nor do I wish to see you so.”
Chapter Thirteen
“This was not part of the deal,” Hunter said. They had returned to the sky room.
“Keep your voice down.” Meirta looked around.
“I didn’t sign up for this.” Hunter was not pleased that he’d been volunteered to stay behind.
“Silly goose.” Meirta smiled. “This is where the investigation leads. Aren’t you a detective?”
Whatever, he thought.
“The key is here,” the Elder, levitating in front of the giant windows, spoke. “Meirta will, of course, remain by your side, for comfort.”
“I’m not afraid to be here.” He was, but he wouldn’t admit it. The vampire king had triggered every copper instinct in him. Krieger was deadly and lethal, a killer.
Hunter looked over at the Elder’s vampires. He got the same feeling from them, maybe that’s the way they all came across. But they did not seem as powerful, or as massive, as the king. And now, he was to be left here.
“You aren’t being left,” the Elder said. “As Meirta said, this is where the investigation leads.”
“And Gibson, doesn’t he have anything of use, or was he just an innocent bystander?”
“You are angry. It won’t serve you well.” The Elde
r dropped down to the floor. “Gibson’s information has already been looked over. He was the lure, the worm on the hook to bring in Walter.”
“True,” the king’s voice filled the room. “Why did you call Walter to England?”
The Elder continued to stare down at the valley. “I have already responded to that. It was not I who asked for him.”
“But it was Gibson who called Walter. He flew to England thinking you’d ordered it.”
The silence was uncomfortable. Hunter almost smiled; it was his defense mechanism for tense situations kicking in. Meirta gave him a look.
“I was unaware of this. I can assure you that I did not send a plane, or any of my staff, for him.” The Elder turned, his body vibrating for a moment.
Hunter blinked a couple of times. He thought he was seeing things, but when he looked again the Elder vibrated once more. Even the vampires had an expression, which made the situation seem scarier. When immortal creatures had a what-the-fuck look on their faces then it must really be bad.
Meirta, not so subtly, jabbed him in the side to get his attention. She nodded towards the doors. There stood a woman who had to be Lily Ayres. Everyone froze as she walked into the room. He hadn’t really known what to expect. The photos had not captured her grace or the unusual color of her hair. Why was it that film stars always looked better in photos, while everyone else looked more attractive in person? Once again, he was annoyed that his mind was not cooperating.
Behind her strode a large man, not as big as the king, but very close. He carried a small arsenal on his body, a sword lashed to his back, an automatic weapon on one hip, and a dagger sheathed on the other. The leather strap which held his sword in place had wooden stakes inserted into it, like ammo. He was the most savage looking man Hunter had ever seen.
Once more, Meirta jabbed him in the ribs, and he realized that the king was speaking. “Lily has asked to speak with you regarding her father’s death.”
The Elder, to Hunter’s surprise, remained at the far corner of the room. Almost as if he were afraid, were that even possible, or uninterested.
“Detective,” Lily said. She looked at him quickly and then back down at the ground.
Breathing deeply, Hunter kept his gaze from straying towards the king and instead focused on her. “Please call me Hunter.”
He reached out his hand to shake hers. Instantly the savage looking man stepped in between them. So he was her bodyguard.
No one said anything. The guard moved aside and Lily remained looking at the floor. Okay, so touching her was off limits. Message received.
The Elder moved closer, but he was clearly uncomfortable. He seemed unable to stop his aspect vibrating, or unaware that it was. One moment he looked solid, the next he seemed to fade. “Miss Ayres, your father will be missed.”
“This is the Elder,” the king explained.
Lily looked up at the Elder. A phantom breeze caught their hair and swept it back from their faces. They looked alike and yet so different.
“Then who sent for Walter?” The king broke the spell with his voice. The breeze vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared. Lily and the Elder’s hair hung as normal.
“Who indeed,” the Elder responded.
At the fringe of Hunter’s vision, he watched the Elder’s vampires standing in the corner, the one farthest from the windows. Their eyes never left Lily, and he could see this was not lost on the king, who constantly kept his body between them and her.
“We need the records from the airport.” Hunter used his detective voice. “Do you have the resources to requisition them?” He looked at the Elder.
“You shall have them.”
Lily walked over to inspect the box which contained Walter’s head. She ran her slim fingers over the inscriptions. “What do these mean?” she asked. Her voice was breathy, little more than a whisper. It forced you to move closer or lean into her.
Hunter hoped she didn’t open the box. He’d seen enough of Walter’s head.
“My child, they are wards, ancient symbols of protection.” The Elder moved a little closer to her. He started to vibrate again, almost like his molecules were disintegrating. His expression was one of disappointment as he stepped further away from her.
“What is there to protect now that he is dead?” Lily asked.
Excellent question, Hunter thought. Maybe there was more to her than met the eye.
No one answered, not even the Elder.
“Is this all that is left?” she asked. “Am I to bury a box?”
Hunter joined her at the table. “His remains were strewn about the church. There wasn’t much left but what is in there.”
“I see.” She went to pick up the box, and then changed her mind, but continued to run her fingers over the symbols.
“The remains will be cremated, and a small, private ceremony has been arranged.” The king moved to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder.
She leaned into his touch for a moment and then stepped away.
“What was my father researching when he died?”
The Elder responded, “I do not know. Winston would, but he has disappeared.”
“I’d like to speak with Detective Hunter.” She said it to the king.
The king kept eye contact with her while he spoke. “Lily is in shock, which I’m sure you can all sympathize with.” The doors opened. “Afford her some privacy to discuss this with the detective. My guards will show you to your rooms, and provide any refreshments or amusements your body requires.”
The vampires flanked the Elder, who floated towards Lily, which meant they had to move closer. Their faces looked pained as they approached her. Once again, the Elder began to vibrate uncontrollably.
The king’s cold eyes looked hard at the Elder. For someone who was a subject, he acted awfully hostile to his superior. An undercurrent of tension even Hunter could feel caused everyone, Other and human alike, to hold their breath.
“Your royal decree of taking a Sanguis Ancilla was remiss in its detail.” The Elder’s hair blew back, caught in another phantom breeze, as he stared at Lily.
Hunter noticed that Lily and the Elder had the same color hair. Was white technically a color? The resemblance between them was strong, like they were of the same race. The Elder seemed unable to stay close to her long, it diminished him. He visibly strained in his effort to remain while Lily was unaffected.
“It was purely a courtesy to inform you.”
“She is rare, your Sanguis. Take care of her, or someone else will.”
That was about as subtle as a kick in the teeth. Did the Elder want her? Hunter couldn’t imagine why. Actually, he couldn’t imagine the Elder being interested in any gender; he seemed completely asexual.
The breeze whipped the Elder’s mane of hair around his face. It expanded out, encompassing the whole room. They watched him disappear bit-by-bit. Hunter had seen him appear and disappear before, but this was the most dramatic exit yet.
“We leave now,” the Elder’s vampires spoke in unison, and departed.
Were they going to follow the Elder? Meirta squeezed his hand hard before leaving him. She walked out with the guard, glancing over her shoulder at him and grinning just before the doors closed with a quiet thud. Now he was alone with the king, Lily, and her bodyguard.
Focus, Dale, focus on the evidence. A lifetime of investigating had taught him to look at situations from many different angles. He went to ask Lily a question, stopped, regrouped, stopped again. He wasn’t sure where to start.
“This box, does it hold any significance?” Lily asked.
“I was told not. It is only a conveyance,” Hunter answered.
“The box wasn’t at the crime scene?” she asked.
“No.”
“It is a ceremonial burial box. The symbols are meant to keep a practitioner of black magic from reanimating the body.” The king said it bluntly.
That was a disturbing image. They both looked at the king.
/> “It is a relic from a less enlightened time.”
Was that meant to be reassuring? Hunter wasn’t so sure about that. Wasn’t the king a vampire, basically the walking dead? Or was that zombies?
Lily kept looking at the king, waiting for him to expound on his answer, but he didn’t. Hunter could tell the king was deciding how much to trust him, how much information to hand over to a human.
“Isn’t it an odd choice then, to pick a box like this?” Hunter asked, curious to see what he’d say.
“The Elder would have tasked Mathers with appropriating the box. And no, it is not odd. Our world is full of symbols which now mean nothing.”
Symbols always meant something. Deciding it was best to change the subject, Hunter addressed Lily. “What did you want to speak with me about?”
“Would you put up the photos of the church again?”
He hadn’t expected that. Quickly he looked up at the king, but he couldn’t read his expression. “Just give me a minute. Computers and I don’t get along.”
The macabre collection of photos flashed up onto the display screens until the whole wall was full of images from the church. She walked along the line of them, looking carefully at each one. When she stopped he felt goose bumps. This was the photo he had pinpointed in the plane.
She pointed. “One of them wrote this.”
Lily didn’t really talk to him, but always to the king, or out into the air. She was peculiar in her reserve, the way she seemed not to register that the blood on the screens was that of her father. That he had died what must have been an excruciating death in that church. She lacked empathy; or rather, she showed none of it.
“I see an F.” She ran her finger over the display image. “An A, and…” She squinted. “That’s a U, I think.”
“I saw that too,” Hunter said. “All the other symbols are very precise, but this stands out. Those were written with a shaky hand. It’s deliberate. You can see the trail of blood from that pool there, and then the droplets out to the letter. I think it means something.”
For the first time she really looked into his eyes. He hadn’t noticed before that hers were different colors, one blue and one green. A man could sink into those eyes and forget about the world. He felt a magnetic-like pull to lean into her. Quickly she stepped back from him, closer to the king, and looked at the wall.
The Last Keeper's Daughter Page 13
