Von Vadim Estate was without a doubt the primary headquarters of whatever was going on. He just had to be patient until the man made another move. And this time, God willing, the law would be there to catch him in the act.
* * * *
In the basement of the estate house, Corin, antsy as a nervous cat, paced to-and-fro. He cursed the clock, the world moving around him in slow motion. Continually rebuking himself, he questioned how he’d ever allowed this to happen, wishing he’d never let Angelique out of his sight. Filled with rage and worry, the sting of helplessness ate at him. He’d never loved anyone with such heated desire and passion. She was not only in his heart…she owned it.
Corin could hear Tomes hobbling about the room above him, no doubt full of turmoil and feeling the same helplessness he felt. A beloved sister’s life was at stake, a twin whom he’d shared everything with since conception. They were connected in a way very few could understand.
“Corin,” Tomes voice called from the doorway above. “Do you mind if I flip on the light?”
“I’ll get it down here,” Corin called back, lighting the lantern near the foot of the stairs. The softer, dimmer light was easier on his sensitive eyes. “Careful with your footing. I don’t want to be responsible for you taking a nasty spill down the stairs and further debilitating that already abused body of yours.”
“I’m not coming down.” Tomes shut the door and took a seat on the top step.
“You should be resting. You need to heal.”
“I’m a good eighty percent there, I’d say,” Tomes looked down at him.
“Have you come up with a way to get her back?” He was hoping to hear that Tomes had a rescue mission all planned out.
“I don’t want to put her in any unnecessary danger. He wants me and he’ll take nothing less.” Corin resumed pacing. “But that leaves me with a dilemma. If I give myself up in exchange for Angelique, in the end, you can bet he’ll still come after all of you despite my sacrifice. In order for his plan to work, he’ll have to eliminate everyone who knows of it. Other than the director, that includes me, you, Angelique, and now Jordon, since he’s joined our little band of misfits.”
“Lucky guy,” Tomes said. “Speaking of Jordon, he took off. I heard him slip out so I watched from a front window and saw him shape-shift into a wolf. He headed for the woods and disappeared near the stone wall. What do you think he’s up to?”
“You don’t trust him,” Corin sensed.
“I don’t know him. So no, I don’t,” Tomes confessed. “And you do?”
“I believe he’s legit. He has his own motivation for catching Boldor.” Corin stopped pacing and looked up at him with a serious expression. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you the truth about him.”
“I don’t think much would shock me now, Corin. A year ago, I never would have imagined nightwalkers to be real, but look at me collaborating in a darkened basement with the very thing I always thought was make-believe. I’d really like to know what’s so extraordinary about him that’s enabled him to win your trust.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you. He’s from another world—the Eleventh Dimension. He calls himself an Indith immortal and claims to be after Boldor to retrieve a powerful charm he stole from a special order of nightwalkers.”
“Wow. I’m almost sorry I asked. Other worlds and magical charms—it’s as if I’ve been sucked into a children’s fantasy book.”
Corin paced. “I told you it was unbelievable.”
“That’s an understatement. Impossible is the appropriate word. This couldn’t be more ludicrous. I’m partnered with a nightwalker, and now an immortal from another world.”
“Maybe so, but because of what we are, Angelique just might stand a chance. That is, if this infernal day would ever end. I need to feed.”
Tomes took a deep breath, already having accepted that it would take an immortal to defeat the nefarious nightwalker. As much as he wanted to be the one to take the killer’s life—revenge for Louisa—he now had to think of Angelique. At this juncture, the nightwalker and the alien immortal were her best hope.
* * * *
Sheriff Pierson leaned back and stretched. Parked on von Vadim’s land, he couldn’t have created a better stakeout position if he’d tried. Well concealed behind a group of large trees, not far from the gate, he had a near-perfect view of the mansion from where he sat.
“What the…” he sprang forward. Choking on a mouthful of salty chips, he fumbled for a diet cola growing warm in a center console cup-holder. Taking a large swallow, he washed down the lump.
What he’d just seen had left him flabbergasted.
“It can’t be,” he brushed crumbs off his shirt while clearing his throat. He stared in bewilderment at the driveway leading to the mansion. “No, it has to be some play on the eye.”
He tried to convince himself, as he’d done with the surveillance tapes, but this time he knew better. This was no trick, or illusion. What he’d just seen with his own two eyes was disconcertingly real.
It was illogical to believe that a person could transform from man to animal, but he’d just witnessed the phenomena all the same. There was no mistaking what he saw—Marshal Jordon Black shape-shifting into a rather fierce-looking, dark-colored wolf.
Sheriff Pierson had never believed in the supernatural, but after what he’d just observed, he found himself reevaluating his beliefs. Seeing the marshal change form had made an impact, something he hadn’t expected, but couldn’t ignore.
Eyeing the green folder lying on the passenger’s seat next to him, he reached for it and flipped it open. Skimming through the sheets, he stopped on a page he’d seen earlier titled “shape-shifting.” He pulled the sheet out and ran his eyes down the length of it.
“No. It’s not possible…vampires?” He laid his head back, letting the shock soak in.
It would certainly explain Corin von Vadim—an odd man, never home during the day, only seen at night—but when it came to the marshal, it didn’t fit. He had seen him out in the daytime. Nevertheless, vampire or not, Marshal Black was no normal human man. Pierson wasn’t sure what the blazes he was.
He hated to admit it, but the infernal reporter, Terry Phillips, just might have been on the right track after all when he compared the first killing to the myth of the vampire. He recalled the title, “Man or Monster.”
“Talk about hitting the nail on the head. Is this why you were avoiding me, Mr. Phillips?” He recalled attempting to see the reporter, without success. “Maybe your informer wasn’t quite as human as the rest of us?” he speculated.
Pierson had always been a levelheaded man, but he now found himself forced to reconsider a bizarre possibility—that the Jackson County killer could actually be a real life, shape-shifting, blood-sucking vampire. Or was he simply losing his mind?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lehndra
Wearing his cape and black Stetson, tilting the brim down to shade his face, Corin headed for the garage even though the sun was still setting, making the slow transition to twilight. He moved quickly, gripping his collar to minimize exposure.
Tomes followed, lagging behind, not yet recovered. Corin had tried to persuade him to wait at the estate, but to no avail. Moreover, with Angelique in danger, he understood Tomes’s need to do something.
“If she died and I didn’t do all I could to save her, I’d never forgive myself,” Tomes made it to the garage and climbed into the car. “She’s at the mercy of a killer. You know better than anyone just how fragile she is in his hands. Your kind are the hunters, and we’re the prey—rabbits to wolves.”
“Drop the negativity right now. She’s not going to die.” Corin tore through the gate, unable to stand the thought. “We know what he wants. We just have to figure out how to use that knowledge to our advantage.”
“When he had me cornered in the room, I got a good look at the buttons on his coat. They’re stones with insects and spiders trapped inside. When he touc
hed one, it moved, like it was alive.”
“There could be something distinctive about the source of the stones.”
“A gift from the devil?” Tomes figured the probability likely.
“I’d imagine something along those lines. Maybe a spell. Just reaffirming it’s a demon we’re dealing with.”
Corin drove to one of his feeding spots and pulled the ‘Vette off the road, parking out of view of passing traffic.
“I won’t be long.” He got out and slipped into the pasture to feed. Now twilight, the sun had dropped below the horizon, waiting for the veil of darkness to fall.
With the setting of the sun came the eerie fog, moving in again as it had the two previous nights. Corin, experiencing déjà vu, stopped feeding and gazed on the ominous wall of mist rolling toward him from a distance across the pasture. He quickly resumed feeding, wanting to finish before the fog reached him, not comfortable with the trepidation it brought, seeming to be an augury of misfortune. Then, sensing they weren’t alone, he closed the wound and hurried back to the car.
“I think someone else is out here.”
“It could just be a hunter.”
Corin nodded. “Maybe. But we can’t be too careful.”
* * * *
Unbeknownst to Corin and Tomes, Sheriff Pierson was following, staying far enough behind to prevent detection. With no traffic on the desolate road and his familiarity with the area, he drove without headlights, an expert in the art of tailing a suspect.
Leaning forward in the driver’s seat of his SUV, he clicked his tongue against the back of his front teeth, wondering why they’d pulled off the road into a secluded, wooded area. Figuring they were less than a quarter mile ahead of him, he eased closer and pulled into the edge of the woods. He grabbed his night vision goggles from the back seat in case he needed them in the dense territory, and moved in on foot, keeping to the shadows at the tree line. Reaching the area he was sure they’d turned into, he pinpointed the opening—a path cleverly cloaked by overlapping lines of woods—running several feet at a left angle then making a sharp turn back to the right, just wide enough to accommodate a vehicle. Starting up the avenue, he spotted the Corvette in the path ahead of him and quickly took cover in the woods. Making as little noise as possible, he detoured around the car, observing Tomes sitting in the passenger’s seat with the window lowered.
“Where are you, von Vadim?” He was careful with his footing, creeping deeper into the woods in search of his suspect.
Pierson kept his eyes wide open as he moved beyond the ended path to the backside of the woods, where he came upon a pasture. His gaze traveled into the field, catching sight of von Vadim’s silhouette latched onto a cow.
“What the devil?”
Caught off guard, he took in a sharp breath, disgusted by the thought of drinking fresh blood from a living animal.
It’s time to go.
Not wanting to chance being detected, he doubled back, slipping past the car, and returned to his vehicle.
“Vampires,” Pierson muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Either Corin von Vadim really is one of the undead, or I’m going crazy.”
Needing reassurance that his sanity was intact, he pulled his phone out and called Patricia who was still in the hospital, but well on the mend. He knew he shouldn’t involve her in this madness, but he couldn’t think of anyone else open-minded enough to call.
“You’re saying you saw the marshal shape-shift into a wolf?” she repeated what he’d told her.
“You wouldn’t believe the strange things going on around here, Patricia. Things I never imagined possible. I think they’re vampires. As we speak, von Vadim is feeding from a cow. I’m afraid the whole county might be swarming with the leeches,” he rambled in agitation.
“Allen, listen to me. The first thing you have to do is calm down. This doesn’t sound like you. You’ve been working continuously since the murders started. Sleep deprivation can be detrimental to your health. Why don’t you call it quits for the night and head home.”
“This isn’t sleep deprivation, Patricia. Of all people, I thought for sure you’d believe me. You know how skeptical I am, but I can’t deny what I’ve seen tonight.” A single profanity escaped under his breath. “It was real!”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Allen. I’m just worried. If what you’re saying is true, and you really have encountered vampires, you shouldn’t be out there alone. Can’t you at least call for some back up?”
“They’d think I’m nuts. Besides, I don’t want to get any of my deputies involved in this mess. It would be equivalent to leading unsuspecting sheep into a den of lions.” He spotted the lights from Corin’s ‘Vette. “I have to go. They’re on the move again.”
“Be careful, Allen,” Patricia implored.
“I will, don’t worry.” He ended the call.
Allowing them a good head start before pulling back on the road, he followed at a distance, having little fear of losing them on the deserted route. Nearing Cemetery Road, where they eventually turned off, he rolled to a stop, unable to follow them down the dead-end avenue without risk of being seen.
Why are you heading to the cemetery?
He watched the headlights of their car bounce between the scattered trees as it moved along the single-lane road that ran about two miles amid aged, mossy oaks until meeting up with a cemetery. Pierson had been there on several occasions. It was a secluded area, the graveyard nestled amongst a fortress of thick, entangled woods.
“I’ll have to wait you out.” He backed up and pulled off the road. Until he figured a few things out, he wasn’t going anywhere.
* * * *
It was a fitting night for a standoff with the cemetery lying half-hidden by the mysterious, creeping fog. But the obscured view was no obstacle for Corin, he knew the grounds well, having visited the deceased there often.
Moving at a slow pace, he and Tomes maneuvered through the multitude of graves, to the center of the cemetery where Boldor had instructed him to go. He thought it strange how the fog moved and shifted around them in a haunting, unnatural manner. He could see Tomes’s anxiety, the man sticking close by his side with the staker gripped tight, prepared for an attack. He’d become inseparable from the weapon, keeping it with him at all times, the staker proving to be an invaluable commodity, having saved his life once already.
“This seems vaguely familiar. Me leading the way while you follow with that thing aimed right at my back,” Corin whispered. “Just watch your trigger finger.”
“I’m not going to shoot you. I know how to handle the staker.”
“That’s a load off my mind.” Corin tossed the words at him with a hint of sarcasm.
After taking several more steps, Corin reached back and halted Tomes. A short distance in front of them, in the misty fog, a form was taking shape. It was Boldor.
“Where is she?” Corin demanded to know the moment he’d completely solidified.
“She’s here.” Boldor offered no details.
“Show me she’s safe, or no deal.”
The area between them was clear, giving Corin a complete view of his opponent who retreated to a large oak tree, disappeared beyond it, and reappeared a moment later with Angelique. Bound and gagged, she was dragged like a rag-doll.
“Fulner,” Corin snarled. The louse traipsed behind Boldor, carrying what appeared to be a large sword and a length of rope.
“Angel!” Tomes called out and started toward her, but Corin placed a firm hand against his chest, holding him back.
He understood how Tomes felt, because he wanted nothing more than to tear Boldor apart, but for now, they had to play by the devil’s rules.
“Just tell me what you want,” Corin called out to Boldor.
“What I want is your head on this gravestone.” He pointed it out. “You do that, and I’ll send this little angel over to her brother.”
Boldor glared at Tomes who stood with the staker aimed at him
, uttering a deep, rolling growl.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. But it’s all you have, isn’t it?” Boldor sneered. “I should have taken her life for what you did to my little firecat, but after getting a closer look, I decided it would be a waste. She’s willful, but beautiful.”
Corin struggled to control the monster rising within him.
“Enough talk! Sacrifice yourself and the girl goes free. Try anything, anything at all, and she’s mine.”
Boldor grazed his fangs along the side of her face and Angelique tried to pull back, but he yanked her to him, causing her to cry out.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” Corin moved toward the gravestone.
Boldor snarled. “I thought you’d see things my way.”
“No, Corin! Don’t!” Angelique yelled, but Boldor quickly silenced her with a slap across her face.
Corin started for him, but Boldor’s words quickly halted his charge.
“I’d kill her before you ever reach me.” Boldor snatched her close.
Corin backed off and continued to the headstone, watching as Boldor passed Angelique to Fulner in exchange for the sword and rope. The fiend then snaked his way with the weapon gripped tightly, so eager to have his head he was salivating.
“I can’t believe you’re giving up your life for this one insignificant mortal. No woman is worth that high a sacrifice, mortal or otherwise.”
“She’s worth a hundred of me, and more,” Corin declared. “Now, I’ve done what you asked. Give her to her brother.”
“First, I want you on all fours.”
“Corin, please!” Angelique cried out again, but Fulner muffled her, placing his hand over her mouth.
“The director knows what to do should you refuse to cooperate,” Boldor warned him.
Corin dropped to his knees, but stopped there. “You’ll have me on all fours when you let her go. Give her to her brother, or I’ll end this now.”
Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) Page 25
