Gypsy Blood (Born to Romany Blood, Book 1)

by Lorrie Unites-Struiff

  Uncle Dragus paced, hands clasped behind his back. Rita caught the sharp looks he and Anna shared.

  The sun blazing through the window cast Anna in a wreath of hazy light. Her forehead creased with concern. “Tell us more about this man, Matt.”

  Drops of sweat slid down between Rita’s breasts. Her legs urged her to get up and run.

  Matt stood, turned a chair around, and straddled it, his arms resting on the back. “We don’t know when he arrived in New Orleans, but I’ve been following him, his kills. He pins the victim down with his strength and drinks the blood. Then this monster uses a spring-loaded hand tool to carve a chunk in the jugular so no one will spot the fang marks.” Matt pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, his face tightened as if in pain. “I saw him do this the day he wounded me. My partner and I didn’t reach the victim in time. This vampire swiped me with the sharp tool, then snapped my partner’s neck before he took off. He has the strength of three men and he moves fast.” Matt fingered the gold cross on his sweater. “I wear this now. Father Ryan, a family friend, blessed the cross with holy water and sent it to me. It offers me some protection.”

  Rita fidgeted in her chair. She remembered the bang on her head from the metal object hanging from the van’s roof, the dirt and the creepy, crypt smell.

  “What you need from us, Matt?” Dragus asked. “How we help you?”

  Rita couldn’t tell if the crystal was warning her, or if her own fear made her shudder. “Keep my family out of this mess, Matt. I…I don’t want them dragged into this horror.”

  Matt turned an imploring gaze to Anna. “All I want is for you to use your crystal ball. Maybe you’ll see where he’ll kill next, maybe where he’s hiding? I’ll take any bit of information I can get, then I’ll handle it from there.”

  Anna’s lips drew tight, her fingers curled into fists.

  The conflicting emotions on her mother’s face sliced Rita deeply. A heavy darkness engulfed her. She wanted to beg Anna not to do it.

  “Dragus, please go upstairs, get the crystal ball and red shawl from my trunk.”

  Chapter Ten

  Anna placed a black velvet cushion on her desk and set the clear orb in the center. Rita took the red shawl and helped Anna layer it over her head and face, leaving only her eyes uncovered. Anna bowed her head and breathed deeply, pulling in strength for the ordeal ahead.

  Shivers raced up Rita’s spine along with the memory of the time Anna had foreseen the impending death of her parents. The havoc, the tears, the manic phone calls to Romania. The utter futility, and then the depth of Anna’s unforgiving grief.

  Anna raised her head. “You know I need complete silence. No one must speak and break the spell. Understand?”

  “You don’t have to do this, Ma,” Rita blurted.

  “Ach. I am reluctant to look into the crystal ball again, but I must. I suffer a question that needs an answer now.”

  “Thank you for doing this, Anna.” Matt took Rita’s hand and led her to the chairs Uncle Dragus had pushed into the corner. She settled next to her uncle who sat as stiff as a stuffed bear, eyes glassy, his face devoid of expression.

  Anna’s chest rose and fell in a steady, deep rhythm. She clasped her hands on her lap, bowed her head again, and chanted softly in her Gypsy tongue.

  Sweat broke out on Rita’s forehead, yet a chill enveloped her. Matt’s hand tightened over hers. She squirmed in the silence as the minutes slowly ticked away.

  Trapped within the ball, a rusty-red fog began to swirl with the power of the clan that Anna had called forth. A faint scent of cinnamon wafted around them. Anna keened, and then jerked. Her arms reached out slowly, and she splayed her fingers on the orb. She leaned forward, her eyes thinned to slits. Anna peered into the substance growing thicker within the ball. The air in the room grew heavy, cloyed with the sweet spice, as if an entity unto itself.

  Rita’s pulse hammered. Beside her, Matt breathed heavily.

  Outside, a cloud eclipsed the bright sunlight that had been shining through the office window, plunging the room into an eerie monochromatic dullness.

  Now, a hazy, greenish glow encircled the entire ball, muting the red swirling within. Anna trembled, but kept her hands spread on the crystal ball. She moaned, whispered, “Tzigan . . familia. No. No!”

  The blood leeched from Rita’s face. The words the killer had said!

  Anna’s shoulders sagged. Her hands fell from the orb to the desk, her head lowered. “It is true,” She choked out the words. “The dark one is near.” Tears shone in Anna’s eyes as she lifted her chin. She rubbed her shawl-covered cheeks with her fingers, glanced first at Rita, then at Dragus. Again, Rita caught the odd look between brother and sister.

  The dark cloud in the sky passed letting the sunlight back into the office, but the aura of bleakness remained with Rita. “Ma,” her voice sharp, “the killer used those same words.”

  Matt stood, pulled the sketch from his pocket and laid it on the desk in front of Anna. “Did you see this man in your crystal ball?”

  Anna nodded and, with trembling fingers, unwound the gauzy shawl from her head.

  “I knew you could help me.” Matt’s voice rose with excitement. “Did you get a glimpse of where he’ll strike next? Or perhaps the woman he will attack?”

  “The ball did not reveal anything but the man’s face to me.” Anna shuddered and rubbed her arms. She covered the ball with her shawl and sighed. “My stubbornness has allowed women to be killed and to place more in danger. I’ll never forgive myself for wasting so much time. I should have sought my answer sooner, as you asked, Daughter.” Anna leaned back in her wheelchair. Sweat beaded above her upper lip. “Sit, sit.” Anna pointed to the chairs. “I must tell you all of it.”

  Matt’s jaw tightened, but he took his place beside Rita. Uncle Dragus paced in front of the window, his shoulders slouched while he stared at the floor. Rita’s nerves felt ready to snap.

  Uncle Dragus stopped to pour Anna a glass of water. She drank avidly, then spoke.

  “The words mean Gypsy family in the old tongue. Once, long ago, there was a Rom leader of a traveling caravan. His clan sold wares, played music for festivals all around the Romanian countryside. This Rom sired many sons. But, he was an over-prideful man, both of his handsomeness and his intelligence. He met and sold his wares to a woman who possessed much wealth and beauty. She lured him away from his family. This temptress turned him into an evil monster.

  “He returned to his clan many years later, but could not satisfy his thirst for blood from his own family because a relative’s blood is toxic to a vampire. It’s like drinking of his own body, his former blood, and would destroy him.

  “The clan was frightened of the creature for he could slay them using his great strength if they did not obey his wishes. They fed his thirst with sheep blood, but they soon heard of murders in nearby villages. His grandson, who had been leading the clan, could not let him continue killing innocents.”

  Anna clasped her hands together and focused on Rita and Matt, her plea stark on her features. “Please understand, the family also held to many beliefs. They believed that if one person of their bloodline committed ritual suicide, the sacrifice would give another the knowledge of how to use the red power of the clan to destroy the unholy creature.

  “The grandson would have none commit suicide, so he devised a plan. He didn’t think his grandfather would be able to sniff a mere pinprick of the blood that had once run through his veins when mixed with a large amount of sheep blood. When the vampire drank the sheep blood, he sank to his knees, unconscious. Members of the clan carried him into a deep cavern in the mountain, and then blew up the entrance with barrels of gunpowder to entomb him.”

  Dragus set another glass of water in front of Anna. Her hand shook as she lifted it to her lips. She set the glass down, then sank back in her chair, her chest heaving.

  Matt rose and walked to the desk. “Is there
a particular reason you are telling us this piece of lore, Anna?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at the sketch. “This vampire’s name is Lucien.” Anna brushed moisture from her brow.

  Rita hurried to the desk and stood beside Matt, the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. “You know his name?”

  A dazed Uncle Dragus approached and tapped a thick finger on the sketch. “Lucien find way out, Anna. Ja. He here.” Dragus seemed to have shrunk in his frame. “Wait, I show you both.” He walked to the bookshelf, removed an old brown photo album, and laid it on the desk. He flipped it open to the second page. A sepia picture of a man wearing an old-fashioned suit, holding a bowler hat on his lap, sat rigid on a chair. His hairline showed a prominent widow’s peak, the bump on the bridge of his nose obvious. The date printed under the picture read 1880.

  Rita’s eyes lost focus for a moment. The room tilted. Matt grasped her waist. She gazed up at Matt, her face mirroring the shock on his. They both looked back to Anna.

  “Yes.” Anna said and searched Rita’s eyes. “He is the creature our ancestors put into the cave. Lucien is one of our great-grandfathers.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rita stood absorbing Anna’s words. Now it all made sense. Lucien had smelled her family blood. He had recognized the crystal. She swallowed, trying to force down the acrid taste in her mouth. She dashed for Anna’s private bathroom. Once inside, she threw up until there was nothing left but dry, wracking heaves.

  Matt entered, ran water in the sink, and pressed a cool, damp washcloth against her forehead. The throbbing in her temples eased. He flushed the toilet. She rinsed her mouth with cold water. His arm slid around her and he pulled her close, running his hand up and down her side. “Cheri, now do you believe we’ve got ourselves a vampire to catch?”

  It hurt just to nod.

  When they went back into the office, Uncle Dragus poured tea from a metal carafe and handed her a steaming mug. “Here, ginger tea to settle stomach.”

  Rita sipped slowly and focused on the sunbeams slanting through the window. Dust motes swirled like gnats within the rays, much like her thoughts. She raised her head. “Ma, how could he last a long time being entombed?”

  “Ach. Vampires can hibernate for decades.”

  “There have been investors building new chalets and ski resorts in the Carpathian Mountains,” said Matt. “Lot of dynamiting there. Our department had been getting reports of the same odd murders in that area for almost a year. Then we latched onto his M.O. trail four months ago in New Orleans. Our guess is that he’s working his way north where the nights are longer.”

  Uncle let out a long sigh. “No good will come of this.” He knuckle rubbed his head. “My brain tired. We need take time now to eat, need time to think.” He hit the intercom on the desk, and with his usual panacea for calming shattered nerves, ordered bowls of goulash delivered to the office with a basket of dark rye bread and butter.

  Rita couldn’t eat. The smell of the thick stew made her stomach queasy again. She opened the window and watched the shoppers getting in and out of their cars, going about their everyday lives. So normal. So happy. So blissfully unaware of the blood-sucking predator roaming the neighborhood. Rita shivered and closed the window.

  Matt sopped up the last of the gravy from his bowl with rye bread. “Great. Thanks, Dragus.” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, his eyes took in everyone in the room. “I think it’s time to tell the task force what we’re up against.”

  Anna pushed her tray of food away, her forehead pinched with worry lines. “Ach, they won’t believe you. They’ll think you’re crazy.”

  A half giggle slid from Rita’s throat. “She’s right. I can see us trying to explain a vampire.” She tilted her head, held up a finger. “Wait. I’ve heard of documented cases where some loonies really think they are vampires. Maybe we can spin it, tell them he’s one of those nut jobs.”

  “No.” Matt countered. “Then they won’t take the situation seriously, and they might get hurt, or worse. Especially when bullets don’t faze him.” He stood and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’m not seeing much of a choice here. You were dead on when you said your police force is in danger.”

  “The Chief knows about my crystal, and he still treats me as if I’m living outside of a rational orbit. You mention real vampire, and they’ll probably call for the men with white coats.”

  Anna folded and unfolded the napkin on her lap. “This kind of creature is better left unknown.”

  Matt took Anna’s hand. “I’m sorry for the terrible news I’ve brought to your family. If I knew where this Lucien was, I’d go after him myself—try to spare everyone more grief.”

  Uncle Dragus pushed back his chair and stared at his black boots as if his usual cheer had drained out the very soles of his feet. Suddenly, his head shot up. He sprang forward and snapped his thick fingers. “I have idea. Maybe we find Lucien for Matt.”

  “How?” Matt asked. “I’ll work with anything y’all come up with.”

  “What?” Anna moved her chair near her brother, her upper body strung tight. “What am I missing?”

  “Amulet power. Think, Anna. Amulet handed down through family. Lucien’s family. Ja. We use it to find lair. Wait, I get map.” He went to the bookshelf and retrieved a map of the area. The paper crackled as he flattened the sheet on the desk.

  Puzzled, Rita and Matt exchanged glances.

  “Yes, yes,” Anna said. “Ach, I forgot. Family finds family. Daughter, take off the amulet. You have seen him. He had his hands on you, smelled our blood. The crystal touched him. Gently swing it over this map and concentrate on Lucien. Form his features in your mind, concentrate, and we will see where the crystal points.”

  Excitement tinged Rita’s voice. “Yeah, I’ve heard of this scrying before.” She hurried over to the desk. “It’s worth a try.”

  Matt unclasped the crystal from her neck. Rita pinched the gold chain between her thumb and forefinger. She took a deep breath, leaned over the map and closed her eyes. Lucien’s face took form in her mind. She suspended the amulet over the map and opened her eyes. The crystal circled, swung back and forth like a pendulum, never pointing at any one place.

  “Damn it! Why won’t it stop moving?” asked Rita.

  Uncle Dragus snorted. “It not work.”

  The chair creaked as Matt sat heavily and let out a pent up breath.

  Rita paced in front of the desk, squeezing the amulet so tight, the star points dug into her palm.

  “It’s no use.” Anna said. “We need something more of Lucien’s for this scrying to work. The blood running through our veins is not enough.”

  Rita stopped in mid-step. “Wait! I do have something of his. I’ll be right back.” She ran out to the Rover and fumbled through her slut-duds in the back seat. Rita dug into the tote, then searched the pockets of the fur, and then the deep pockets of the pink raincoat. Rita returned with the button from Lucien’s jacket. She held out her palm. “This is from his blazer. Will it help?”

  “We find out.” Uncle Dragus examined the gold-domed button. He threaded the smaller end of the chain through the looped hole until the button lay touching the top of the crystal, then handed the amulet to Rita. “Now you try.”

  Rita felt the tension pushing at her from all gathered around the desk, watching, hoping. She sensed the fear and anguish radiating from her family. Again, Rita sucked a bracing breath and sent a silent prayer to all her forbearers. With trembling fingers, she held the clear crystal over the map and concentrated on Lucien. The amulet swung in wide circles, then each circle grew smaller, tighter. The chain stiffened as if starched. The amulet had stopped dead center on a blue-circled town.

  “Yes, yes.” Anna clapped. “Look, it is pointing to Braddock. That’s not far away.”

  Uncle Dragus moved with newfound energy. “We have big street map on shelf. I look for it.” A few minutes later, he brought the map to the desk.

  A small square stopped the cr
ystal cold. Matt checked the address. “Y’all know where this is?”

  Rita nodded. “Carnegie Hill. A few run-down mansions are up there. Used to belong to the bigwigs when the steel mills were in full swing. County plans on demolishing them.”

  The button slid off the chain and clattered onto the desk. Matt re-clasped the crystal around her neck. She tucked the amulet under the neckline of her sweatshirt.

  Matt looked out the window, then at his watch. “Enough daylight left. How do I get there?”

  Rita shot Matt a brazen glare. “I’ll take you. You lost a partner, and Lucien almost killed you the last time you caught up with him. Meet your new backup.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t tell me no. He can’t take my blood, remember?”

  “Maybe not your blood, but he can use his strength to kill. It’s too dangerous.”

  “But not for you? Tough shit. I know the area and I’m going, so get over it.”

  Dragus grabbed his gray flannel jacket from the closet. “We have same blood. You will have familia help.”

  “This is my job.” Rita placed her hand on Uncle’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “We all go.” Anna raised her voice, “Don’t you see? We are his grandchildren. This must be finished today. You know he will kill again tonight if he isn’t stopped.”

  “Be sensible, Ma. How do you expect to help?”

  “With my gifts.” Anna lowered her head. “I know the legends best, the ways of the undead.” She peered up at Dragus. “I’ve made my decision now, my brother.”

  “No, Anna,” Dragus shouted. “Please, I beg. I go take your place.”

  Anna shook her head. “I am the only one who can use the spells.”

  “Damn it.” Matt glared at Rita. “I don’t like this.” He looked at Dragus and Anna, his eyes shadowed with worry. “If y’all are determined, I can’t stop you, but here’s the plan. I have the weapons to face him. Let me try to do my job first. Wait some place near and safe. Call for backup if things go south. Let’s hope no one has to find out what we’re dealing with.”