She stood and walked to the window. Despite her earlier anxiety and belief that rest would elude her, she’d managed to sleep through the day. Darkness was just beginning to shroud the world outside her window. Soon the streetlights would glow a dull orange, and a butter moon would crest the mountains. The trees swayed in the wind. She scanned the street and her yard. Nothing. Whatever awakened her wasn’t an imminent threat. She turned away from the window, heading to the bathroom.
Beneath the dual showerheads, she let the water pour over her body. It did little to tame the vibrations racing from head to toe. It had been what, two…three hundred years since she’d felt this way. Certainly not since before Rodolphe’s demise. There’d been bloody vampire wars in those days. Alliances built and destroyed. Lands conquered and loyal followers made. Power was the name of the game and she’d played it with the best of them. Rodolphe had been an extraordinary teacher.
Riah didn’t miss any of it.
Oh, there were always vampires who wanted supremacy and control. Particularly the young ones. A vampire didn’t exist as long as Riah without gaining a great deal of wisdom. Power could be intoxicating, but more often than not it was a death sentence even for the immortal. Someone stronger, hungrier was always coming up from behind.
Harmony and forgiveness became most important to Riah. Stepping far away from the drama and power plays of darkness gave her no regrets. She wanted no part of them.
Truthfully, the battles were far less dramatic in the twenty-first century than earlier. Even vampires after so many centuries managed to learn and ultimately embrace both diplomacy and discretion. Or so she believed until a couple of days ago. If what Colin told her was true, none of it mattered because, soon, there’d be no more vampires.
Delusions weren’t her specialty. Colin wouldn’t spare her life unless Adriana came up with a miracle cure. Adriana’s heart was in the right place but time wasn’t on their side.
Right now, though, waves of emotion flowed through Riah, the same sense of anticipation before she’d followed Rodolphe into battle. They were often victorious, taking what they wanted and destroying anyone that stood in their way. He’d given her in undeath what she couldn’t possess in life—independence. Though tied to Rodolphe as her maker and lover, she’d still been infinitely freer than she’d ever been as a young woman in the sixteenth century. No biological father to gamble her away. No adoptive father to marry her off to some withered old nobleman.
When she’d destroyed Rodolphe, everything changed yet again. Total freedom was hers. She walked away from her old life without a second look back. For some the solitary existence was unthinkable. Not for her. She embraced it and survived. Why, then, did she feel as though her world was about to implode?
She dried off and went to the chest of drawers. As she started to reach for a clean set of scrubs, she paused. The light blue garments were folded and ready for her next shift at the ME’s office. After a moment, she closed the drawer and turned to the closet. Inside she shoved aside jackets, shirts, and dresses. In the back was a set of clothes she’d been unable to part with even though she honestly believed she’d never need to wear them again.
The black leather pants fit as well tonight as the first day she’d slipped into them. The leather was smooth and warm against her naked skin. The tailor who’d made them was an Italian wizard. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as her mind turned back the years. Nothing she’d asked him for had been too strange or difficult, even if he did give her a few questioning looks.
The leather attire pleased her a great deal. Despite being born into privilege where dresses and beauty were highly prized, they were never really her forte. By the dawn of the American Revolution, dresses and convention no longer suited Riah. She moved alone in the shadows even back then and chose appropriate clothing.
Aiden Marcetti crafted the gorgeous black leather pants, vest, and ankle-length jacket hundreds of years before popular culture’s spate of vampire anti-heroes made the look a part of folk legend. In the dark clothing, she moved undetected through the back alleys of the cities as well as through the shadows of the rural lands. She was no longer on the search for tasty prey. Instead, she was a silent and deadly hunter whose sole intent was to protect unsuspecting victims from others of her own kind. She did her good deeds in absolute anonymity.
From a box on the top shelf of the closet, Riah removed a silver dagger. She turned it over in her hands, reacquainting herself with the weight and feel of the weapon before she slid it into a sheath at her hip. Several silver throwing stars fit into invisible pockets inside her jacket. Finally, one more dagger, a bit longer than the one at her hip yet still shorter than a sword, slid into a sheath sewn into the lining of her jacket. It felt as familiar tonight as it did a couple of centuries ago.
Dressed and armed, Riah stilled and listened once more. Nothing but silence throughout her house. She shook her head and moved to the mirror. She wasn’t imagining things and, though she might very well be alone in the house at the moment, somewhere very close, danger waited. Something was in the wind and it whispered to her.
*
Ivy was alone. Again. The guy was like a ghost. No wonder he was a vampire hunter. Even the creatures of darkness with all their preternatural senses probably never heard him coming. With her strictly human senses, Ivy sure didn’t hear him leave, either time.
Ivy rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. She stretched as she walked, her joints popping like an old woman’s. Getting older was the pits. For a brief moment, she wondered what it would be like to be young and lithe forever—like Riah.
Then again, during some moments when Riah didn’t realize anyone watched her, Ivy’d seen pain flash in her eyes. Though Riah never said a word, Ivy had the sense she paid a very high price for her youth and immortality. Still, as Ivy tried to work out the kinks, it was hard not to wish she was twenty again.
The shower worked wonders and, while she didn’t feel twenty, it soothed her aching muscles. She’d feel bad about all the aches and pains except getting them was such exquisite pleasure. Colin was a surprise in so many ways, not the least of which was his lovemaking.
Ivy didn’t know how to feel about Colin. Falling fast for the guy was scary. People who knew her well would think she’d lost her mind. Falling in love wasn’t exactly her strong suit, Jorge being a case in point. So, to find herself in love with a man she barely knew was nuts. And, probably one-sided. No promises had been made. No whispered endearments. He’d simply made love to her, then left her sleeping to go out into the night and slay dragons.
Fairy tales were great, and the good knight on his white horse a wonderful dream. It wasn’t the real world. He might very well be a knight on a big white horse, but as soon as this Destiny was six feet under, he’d be gone from her life as quickly as he’d appeared.
Dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Ivy sighed and wished she’d brought a clean set. It’d be a lie to say Colin hadn’t been on her mind when she’d left Moses Lake, which explained the sexy underwear. Despite slipping into her nicest undies, she’d decided to forego packing an overnight bag. While the underwear seemed hopeful, an overnight bag seemed slutty.
Ivy glanced at the clock and wondered when he’d left. After a vigorous afternoon workout, Ivy had ended up falling asleep in his arms. It was easy because he made her feel not only gloriously satisfied, but safe. Held tight in his arms, she’d drifted into blissful rest.
Now, it was very different. The day was wasting and she couldn’t lie around waiting for him to return. She made a pot of coffee in the little machine on the desk and waited for it to brew. The whoosh of the water pouring into the carafe was the only sound in the room. She stood gazing out the window as the sun dropped over the mountains to the west. The sky was a brilliant shade of red, and in the distance the lighted towers of the Our Lady of Lourdes Cathedral glowed.
The church made her think of Jorge again. It was hard not to picture him on the cold steel auto
psy table. She pushed the bitter memory away. She wanted to remember him as he’d been at her house—handsome, hopeful, and cocky. She said a quick prayer for him and crossed herself.
Ivy drank a cup of the horrible coffee before she grabbed her keys and left the room. A few minutes later, she was driving west. She’d made the trip so many times lately, she felt as though the car could negotiate the route without any help from her. Even the guard at the security gate only nodded when she stopped, then buzzed the gate open.
Riah’s car was already in its usual parking space. She expected that. Colin’s car was neither inside the gate nor parked on the street. She didn’t expect that. That he wasn’t already here didn’t leave her with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It was bad enough that Colin was absent. The look on Riah’s face made her stomach drop even farther. Shit.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked, though terrified of the answer. If something happened to Colin…
Riah shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know. Things aren’t quite right. The security manager left me a voice mail that one of the guards, a real dedicated guy named A.J., was absent at shift change. Things were locked up and nothing appeared out of the ordinary other than A.J.’s disappearance.”
Relief washed over her, though the feeling only lasted a second. A missing guard wasn’t a good thing under any circumstances. Given all that had happened lately, her stomach churned. “Have they been able to track him down?”
“No. I talked with the supervisor five minutes ago and, so far, nothing. He’s not at his house and he’s not answering his cell.”
“Maybe he just bailed?” Ivy didn’t really believe it even as the words passed her lips.
Riah ran a hand over her eyes. “He’s not that kind of guy. I’m usually a pretty good judge of people, Ivy, and I had this guy pegged as one of the good ones.”
A bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Nothing was quite as it should be, from the MIA security guard to Riah’s strange outfit. Ivy swept her gaze over her friend. Truthfully, she looked somewhere between a dominatrix and a biker bitch. A rather dangerous biker bitch, no less. During all their years as both friends and colleagues, Riah was always classy, but decidedly professional. Tonight, she looked downright menacing.
“Ah, what’s with the leather?” Ivy asked.
Riah stared at her for a moment as if the question didn’t make sense. Then her eyes cleared. “Battle gear.”
“And you’re expecting a war?”
“Yes.”
Ivy waited. There had to be more than just a simple yes. What kind of war? From whom? Against whom? She understood trouble was on its way, but the details seemed to have whizzed right by her and she was the only one who missed them.
Instead of an explanation, Riah said, “It might be better if you went back home.”
“Excuse me?” After everything they’d been through, Riah wanted to shut her out now?
“Seriously, Ivy, there’s no need for you to get mixed up in this any more than you already are. Things are going to get bloody, and I’d feel terrible if you got caught in the crosshairs.”
Oh, right. For years, they’d worked side-by-side, saving the world from the creatures of darkness, staking vampires, covering up, all the while searching for a cure that might release Riah from the curse. It was just dandy for Ivy to come along for that much of the ride, but now—when things were coming down to the wire—Riah wanted to send Ivy home like a misbehaving teenager. She had two words for Riah…bull and shit.
“I don’t think so.” Her words were biting though she managed to keep them civil. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper.
“You don’t know what you’re up against.” Riah’s dark eyes mirrored the concern in her voice.
Ivy shook her head. Regard for her safety aside, it wasn’t fair. She’d earned the right to be here. “Don’t know? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Riah said in a quiet voice, “I’m serious.”
Ivy waved her hand as if to bat away Riah’s words. “Yeah, chica, so am I. I’ve spent the last ten years as your sidekick, taking heads and writing reports to cover it. I just put my ex-husband down like a rabid dog and fell in love with a guy who hunts vampires, and you have the nerve to stand there and tell me to go home because things are too dangerous!”
“Yes.”
The single word uttered in a near-whisper was her undoing. “Screw you, Riah.”
Ivy was wound up and ready to get into it. She’d have done it, too, except Adriana sailed in like a flash of lightning headed for Riah.
“Oh, you gorgeous woman.” She wrapped Riah in a hug and kissed her.
Riah stepped back, a puzzled look on her face. “What was that for?”
“Oh, like you don’t know.” Adriana’s smile glowed.
Adriana’s mood wasn’t contagious. There wasn’t so much as a trace of a smile on Riah’s face. “No, I don’t.”
Against the dark skin of Adriana’s throat, gold glowed and a colored stone flashed. “Is that new?” Ivy asked.
Adriana nodded and held it out. “A gift from my beautiful lover, who’s playing innocent.” She nudged Riah with a shoulder. Her smile still lit up her face, and no amount of glowering on Riah’s part seemed to be able to dampen her joy.
Ivy’s gaze shifted from the necklace to Riah’s face. What she saw there wasn’t what she expected. A look of horror replaced her recent confusion. For a woman who was already pretty damned white, Riah paled even further. What was going on? No one was acting normal and everything seemed…well, wrong.
It seemed to take a huge amount of effort for Riah to get a single question past her lips. Her voice cracked as she asked, “Where did you get that?”
Chapter Seventeen
Destiny waited until the attractive black woman drove away before she went to the back of the house. She didn’t bother with subtlety. Instead, she shattered the back door with a kick. There was something very satisfying about the sound of breaking glass. Stepping over the splinters and glass shards, Destiny looked around as she walked through the house. An unremarkable kitchen, a very colorful living room, a couple of bedrooms, and a roomy bathroom.
She was missing something. Ah, yes, the basement. She still liked to think of rooms belowground as dungeons, but that was just her. The modern folks liked their basements and didn’t appreciate the comparison to dungeons.
Destiny went back to the kitchen and quickly scanned the room. A door against the far wall opened to a staircase leading down. Pay dirt. The room was large and open, and served as the well-stocked working laboratory she’d glimpsed earlier. Gleaming machinery, glass tubes, stainless racks, computers, and whiteboards made a nice facility. This home operation was well-appointed, and Destiny didn’t have to be told who the benefactor was.
“Nice try, Catherine,” she said as she walked through the room, tipping over bottles and tubes. She yanked cords from the wall and toppled the computers to the floor. No carpet here to soften the impact or save the precious equipment. Good old seasoned concrete made her one-woman party a huge success. The explosion of broken glass, shattering plastic, and draining liquids delighted her.
The mess was fantastic. The room changed from sterile order to odorous chaos. It gave her a nearly orgasmic rush. How she’d love to go through the entire house and blow off steam. Alas, time was a luxury she didn’t possess at the moment.
Back outside, Destiny grabbed the can of gasoline she’d earlier stashed in the shrubs. It took less than ten minutes to liberally pour the gasoline throughout the house. The fumes made her eyes water but didn’t slow her down.
Once the can was empty, Destiny dropped it to the kitchen floor and made her way outside again, careful not to step in any of the gas. From the back porch, she peered at her handiwork. Her father would be so proud. He liked to tell her being rich was no excuse for being sloppy. Any job was worth doing right.
“Bye-bye,” she whispered as she struck a match and tossed it through the frame of the broken
door. Flames burst five feet high before spreading like a golden wave as far as she could see. It was a shame she couldn’t linger to enjoy her handiwork.
With one deep inhalation, she backed away and smiled wider as she faded into the shadows. She was driving toward the city when the boom of an explosion shattered the quiet night air. A huge burst of light flashed in the rearview mirror.
*
The blood in Riah’s veins turned to ice. It all came to her in a flash and everything fell into place. The insight shook her so deeply, her knees almost buckled.
“Take it off,” she rasped.
Adriana tilted her head and peered at Riah as if she’d lost her mind. Her smile faltered for the first time since she’d entered the room. “I don’t understand.”
Riah’s laugh held no humor. “You weren’t supposed to understand. You were supposed to put it on and parade it in front of me.”
She knew they were all looking at her like she’d gone mad. She didn’t blame them. They’d never seen her in full battle mode. They’d never seen her lose it so badly her voice shook and her body trembled.
The Riah they knew was a calm, rational, and conservative doctor, and very real to Ivy and Adriana. Even to Colin for the brief amount of time they’d known each other. In reality, Riah Preston didn’t exist. Riah was the personification of everything she wanted to be: the doctor, the researcher, the saver of lives. She was good and kind, and in love.
She was also a big, fat liar.
Adriana studied Riah’s face. Something must have clicked because she undid the clasp and slipped the gorgeous piece into Riah’s outstretched hand. Riah closed her fingers over the stone.
She dropped into a chair and stared at the necklace glittering in her palm. The hardness of the precious metal and the coolness of the stone took her into the past and she had to blink back tears.
“I owe you all an explanation,” she said when she could talk without her voice breaking.
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