by Lund, S. E.
“Hi, Eve,” Sarah says. “Glad to see you here.”
I smile. “Thanks. I'm a bit nervous. I’ve never been to a pub crawl before.” I turn to Julien. "This is Julien. Julien, this is Sarah and Brenda from my history class."
They turn to him and he smiles and bows mock-formally, that grin of his starting.
"Such beautiful ladies!" He bows to Sarah and then takes Brenda's hand and kisses her knuckles as if he's trying to see if she's an Adept. "How am I so lucky to be the only man here?"
Sarah smiles and I see Brenda's eyes widen. When Julien lets go of her hand, she looks down at the table for a moment. Julien pulls up a chair from another table and Brenda makes room for us. I sit down.
"I'll go get us a drink. What will you have?"
I make a face. "Just whatever you're having."
He leaves us.
“You’ve never been to a pub crawl?” Sarah says. “How come?”
I shake my head. “I was a bit of a nerd.”
“We almost didn’t come,” she says.
“Why?” Then I cringe. “Oh, right. Your friend Christie’s funeral was yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Brenda looks quickly at Sarah. “Thanks. It’s hard, but she’d want us to come. She helped organize tonight.”
I’d completely forgotten why I came to Davis Cove, so wrapped up in the petty psychodrama of my so-called college social life.
“I read about it in the paper. She was your friend?”
Sarah nods. “My best friend.”
“Do they know what happened?”
Brenda shrugs, glancing at Sarah. “Overdose, from what the coroner said. It was weird because she never took drugs. Someone maybe spiked her drink, but the coroner ruled it accidental.”
I nod. Yes. It certainly was weird. But I know the real cause. She was an Adept and a Blood Slave.
They're silent for a few moments and then someone changes the subject, and talks about an upcoming football game against an old rival. Maybe I imagined the whole thing the other day when Brenda gasped when she touched me. Maybe she really did get a static shock and I didn’t notice it.
I start to relax once the focus is off me and on to other subjects.
It's then that Nate strolls up, looking very handsome as usual, in a dark blue shirt and jeans. He says hello to everyone and then turns to me, holding out his hand.
“Eve, would you like to dance?”
"Not really," I say, glancing at the dance floor where a few people are dancing.
"Come on. Don't be a buzz kill. Besides, I have something to tell you in private."
I frown and stand up, taking his hand, because, what am I going to do? Refuse? I'm sure it's a message from Soren.
“Sure.”
He leads me to the middle of the dance floor and we wait for the next song. The music starts and it's a slow dance. Crap.
“I better not," I say stepping back from him. "Julien's a bit jealous."
I try to walk away, but he grabs my hand and pulls me against him. "You don't have a choice, Eve," he says and smiles. “Soren wanted me to tell you something and this is the best way to convey his message.”
I give in, but I glance over at the bar, where Julien is chatting with the bartender, his back to me while the bartender pours our drinks. Probably talking bar stuff.
“You're on the wrong track if you keep investigating these murders,” he says into my ear.
"What do you mean?" I put on a fake smile, not wanting Julien to get upset if he sees me.
“They're nothing. Just business. Not part of anything ominous.”
“Like I believe that.”
"Believe it. Soren doesn't want you to keep investigating them. You're raising all kinds of unnecessary questions. Back off or he says your little problem with Julien will continue. "
The song ends and I turn away without another word, going back to find that Sarah’s table is joined by a tall dark-haired young man I hadn’t seen at school before.
I take my chair and Sarah cranes her head to me. “Dylan, I want you to meet my new friend Eve. Eve, this is my big brother. He’s only a year older than me, but he likes it when I call him that. He's back from Boston for the weekend. He’s doing a degree in engineering at MIT. He’s studying nanotechnology.”
I smile at him. He looks a bit uncomfortable, but then smiles back at me. It looks anything but friendly.
“Nice to meet you,” he says stiffly. I figure he doesn't like being introduced to all Sarah’s little friends like he's some trophy on display. I wonder why he came if he's uncomfortable.
“I told you about Eve,” Sarah says. “She’s a classically trained pianist. Her father played violin for the Prague Symphony.” She raises her eyebrows at that.
I feel my cheeks burn. Her father or mother must have spoken about me.
“Yeah, I was my father’s performing monkey for a few years,” I say, trying to downplay it. Then I feel bad, saying something mean about my father, considering. I just don't like the limelight.
“Our mother said you made the first cut at Julliard for the pre-college program. That’s something you should be proud of,” Dylan says.
I look at him more closely to see his expression. He's darkly attractive, with longish black hair and hazel eyes.
I shrug and turn away, hoping the conversation will shift away from me and my background. I don't like lying or telling too much of the truth and most of all, I don't want anyone to talk about the fact that I lost my parents.
Finally, Julien returns and sits beside me on the chair, which he's turned around. Then, out of the blue, Dylan offers me his hand when the music starts.
“Care to dance?”
I smile and glance at Julien, who raises his eyebrows. What is it with these people and hand-holding? I don't want to say no, so I breathe in deeply and take his hand but get nothing strange from him when I do. The song turns out to be another slow one and so once again, I've broken Julien's rule about touching strangers. He can't come and rescue me either. We can't touch.
“You’re lucky to be able to play piano,” Dylan says, his mouth next to my ear, one hand on my waist, the other holding my hand. “My mother tried to teach me, but it didn’t stick. Didn’t get the talent genes, I guess. Sarah did, but then she got sick.”
"What's wrong with her?"
"Inherited neuromuscular disorder. Incurable. She'll likely be dead by the time she's thirty."
"I'm so sorry."
He shrugs. "I've known most of her life. It's hard to watch. She's still pretty good though."
He has the same accent as his parents and sister, called ‘Scouse’ to those who live in the region. When we lived in England, in Wales, I became familiar with the different accents.
An awkward silence passes.
He takes in a deep breath. “How come you didn’t go to Julliard?”
“After my mother died, I focused more on science and never went to the audition.”
He shakes his head and frowns. “That’s sad,” he says.
“I was in love with medicine, like my mom was,” I say, remembering my foster parent's insistence that I go back to full academics in high school.
“That's too bad,” he says, and his voice actually sounded sad. "The world has more than enough doctors but hardly enough really gifted musicians."
“So, you study nanotechnology?” I try to change the subject. “That’s amazing.”
He pull back and checks me out. “You’re interested in science?”
“I’ve loved science since I was a kid,” I say. “I had a telescope back when we lived in Wales and I take pictures. I took one of Andromeda and a few nebulae that turned out pretty well. Some time lapse video of the Milky Way rising.”
“Really?”
“When we moved to Prague, I hated it because there was so much light pollution, I could hardly see anything.”
“Wales, Prague. Sounds like an interesting life. How did you end up in Davis Cove, of all places?”<
br />
I hate to lie to him, especially since he and his sister are being so nice to me, but what else can I do?
I repeat the lie. “My dad stayed here as a kid and so I thought it would be a good place to come, get away from it all.”
“It certainly is away from it all.”
I look up at his face. He's smiling.
“Some weekend when I’m back, I’ll bring my telescope and we can do some star gazing,” he says, his voice light. “I have a great Takahashi and a pretty good camera for astrophotography. The Draconids are coming up next week – it's supposed to be a great show this year. A thousand meteors a second.”
I smile. “I have a boyfriend.”
"I have a girlfriend," he says and smiles. "Just being friendly."
I feel heat rise in my cheeks. "Sorry. I just didn’t want…"
"No offense taken." We dance in silence for a few moments, and it's then I feel it – just a tiny sense that he's trying to get into my mind.
I immediately put up my mental blocks.
I don't know what to do. Do I act as if nothing happened? Do I confront him? I feel conflicted. I decide to pretend nothing happened.
Then I see Julien walking across the dance floor to us.
"I guess I overstayed my welcome," Dylan says, smiling. The song ends and now it's a fast one. Dylan bows to me and gestures to Julien. "She's all yours."
Julien tilts his head in acknowledgement. "She always was."
Dylan smiles and catches my eye before he leaves.
Julien and I dance, but we stay our proper distance away, and I try to tell him what Nate said.
"Nate told me that as long as you and I investigate these cases, our problem will remain."
"Fucking bastard," he says. "He knows we're here because of the murders."
Then I tell him about Dylan.
He frowns. "This is why you shouldn't be dancing, Eve. If he's an Adept working for Blackstone, they'll know I'm here."
"I thought you wanted to infiltrate them?"
"Yeah, but on my terms. Now, we'll have to see how they respond, if this Dylan guy is with them and if he knows who I am."
"How could I know? I'd written the Rhys family off because I never go anything from Sarah or her parents."
He shakes his head and inhales deeply.
"I guess we'll find out now."
Finally, we sit back down at the table.
“Eve," Sarah says to me. "Why don’t you come by to my place some afternoon? We have a concert grand piano that my mother bought when she was in New York one year. I’d love to hear you play. I used to play before…”
I look at her and then to Dylan, who's smiling. His smile looks pleasant enough, but his eyes are hooded.
“You should come by,” he says. “Supposedly, Glenn Gould played on it when he was still a student in Toronto.”
“Glenn Gould?" I can't help but sound impressed. Gould is one of my favorite musicians. "I’ll do that,” I say, trying to find a reason to say no. I just will never go. I glance at Julien, who's frowning.
“Come by after school some day when you’re not working.” Sarah smiles so brightly. Perhaps she's unaware of her brother's gifts.
“I’ll try.”
We stay there for another half-hour and Julien and I listen to their talk about the community and then it's on to the next pub. I glance back to watch Dylan pushing his sister’s wheelchair. Ahead of us, Nate and his friends leave the building, laughing amongst themselves, on their way to the next pub on the list. They all look so normal. But they're really just like me.
We're all performing, evaluating each other.
Once we're in the car, I turn to Julien.
"Let's go home," I say. "I've had enough."
"It's only 11:30."
"I'm tired and being around them is stressful."
He nods.
I slept poorly last night and we actually do have some work to do tomorrow. Our test results from the three deaths that drew our interest are due in and they'll determine just what our next steps will be. If they come back positive, with abnormal levels of oxytocin and dopamine, signs of being a blood slave, we’d start examining all their contacts to try to narrow down who our suspect – or suspects – are.
But I already think it's either Soren or one of his minions. Or Blackstone.
Why has Soren called us here if he knows we'll investigate these murders?
I stare out the window as we drive back to our cottage overlooking the ocean, wondering how Dylan Rhys fits into all this.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"In every living thing there is a desire for love."
D. H. Lawrence
On Saturday, we have lunch and then Julien and I sit at the computer and read over the email Sheriff Conyers sent containing the results of the blood and tissue tests we’d asked for. Every one of our suspected cases reveals the telltale evidence of being a blood slave. There is enough other evidence to confirm that someone in Davis Cove is using Adepts as blood slaves. Of course, I think it's Soren.
"Soren said these murders were just housekeeping. My thought would be that he's weeding out the ones he thinks aren't loyal enough, or are tempted to join the Council."
Julien says nothing and I wonder if Soren's new compulsion overrides the last one. He totally ignores me.
"Did you hear me?" I say. "Soren said these murders are housekeeping."
He frowns at me. "Eve, I can't touch you. Stop."
Well, he's left them both in place. So I can't talk to him about Soren's guilt and I can't touch him.
He's trying to drive me crazy.
I think immediately about Dylan – he comes back each weekend. If he's an Adept working for Blackstone, he might be involved in some way. He wasn't at Soren's party but he was supposed to be in Cambridge at school on Thursday.
"Do you suppose Dylan's being prepared to be one of Soren's Adepts? Like I'm supposed to be? Or is he with Blackstone?"
Now, Julien looks up. "Soren's creating some kind of army of Adepts to take power once Blackstone strikes. Davis Cove may just be a retreat for him and his coven. A place to train Adepts while he waits for Blackstone to make their move. Or he located here because there's a Blackstone cell here and he wants to keep an eye on them. Dylan could be part of either."
So he can talk to me about Soren but not his guilt in the River Man case or this case. Did Soren or one of his servants kill them all? A sense of horror spreads through me at the thought Dylan is involved with either Blackstone or Soren. He's attractive, pleasant, and non-threatening – except for the last moment when we were dancing and I felt him reaching out to my mind.
Why hasn’t he challenged me if he knows who and what I am? It doesn't make sense to me. This makes me think he's with Blackstone, which makes him even more dangerous.
“Julien,” I say as we sit in silence, reading over the files. “All those first murders that were part of The River Man case – they were all like you, weren't they? Vampire warriors created by Blackstone? That's why they were beheaded. They were all vampires, not Adepts.”
He glances up from his file, his brow furrowed. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t Michel and Ed tell me that right away?"
He says nothing for a long moment as if deciding whether to tell the truth.
"Blackstone's killing off members of my unit. I don't know why. If we can track down the killer, we may find out why but it has to be linked to Dominion."
Of course, I know it's Soren killing off members of his unit. Why? As a threat to Julien? Warning?
He comes over to me and sits beside me on the couch, careful to keep a distance between us. I cross my arms, trying to keep my hands away from him, because my first instinct is to reach out and touch him.
"Why did Soren stake you?"
"To get to Michel. To get him to comply."
"He never really meant to kill you."
"No, but he could have. He used me as his trump card if Michel didn't comply."
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"Michel refused him?"
Julien nods. "Yes. Michel didn’t want to cooperate with Soren. But then, he found you and was unable to keep you hidden…"
"So Soren found out about me and tried to push you and I together by making Michel stay with him in Pittsburgh."
"That was his plan from the start."
"That you and I would be lovers?"
"That you'd be both our lovers. He'd use you to get to us both."
"So, he wanted me to be with both of you. He'd use you both to get to me and use me to get to both of you."
"That's about it."
"He's a bastard."
"The supreme manipulator," Julien says and shakes his head.
Now, I'm even more confused. I wish there was someone else to talk to about this. Someone who is compulsion free. Someone else like me.
Julien and I pour over the cases that we now know are the result of blood sharing and draw up a list of contacts each one had, in order to see if there were any people in common who might be linked to either Soren's coven or some Blackstone cell. With the help of Sheriff Conyers, we build a tree of contacts. Being a relatively small town, there are many shared connections between the four victims. All of them go to the local Catholic Church. They all went to the family medical clinic to visit their doctors at some point in the year or had one of the doctors attend to them. They all received mail, had the same telephone and internet service. As we build up our list, one thing kept cropping up.
The Rhys family.
“But none of them are vampires,” Julien says as he looks at surveillance photos he’s taken of them. “I don’t understand. They’re linked – tenuously – to every one of the dead, but then, so are a dozen other people on the list.” He turns to face me and looks at me from under a furrowed brow. “Maybe you should go to the Rhys family for a visit after all.”
I shrug and try to act as if it's just work, but I'm a little scared and curious. “Maybe I was mistaken about him trying to enter my mind.”
“I doubt it. It wouldn’t hurt for you to go there, check them out. You might turn up something.”
“I’m surprised you’ll let me go alone.”
