Desire Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  On the northwest corner of Seventh stood a small commercial building, barely more than four stories high, but it abutted a taller structure. Once on the roof of the first building, Diego paused beside Ryder and surveyed their possible options. A leap to the next building’s roof and then a dash up the fire escape on another would put them within ten stories of the penthouse of the van Winter building across the street.

  With a running start, Diego could make the leap, but could Ryder, who was younger and arguably not as strong? “Can you make it?” he asked, even as he was in motion, easily jumping the few stories to the rooftop of the adjacent building.

  On that level, Ryder paused beside him, surveyed the distance across the avenue and upward. “I’m not sure.”

  “If we make the jump, will we be noticed?”

  “It’s clear for now,” Ryder said, glancing toward the uppermost floor.

  Diego was puzzled by his friend’s certainty, until it occurred to him. “You can sense Diana and what she’s thinking. You’ve bitten her often.”

  A flush of chagrin swept across his friend’s face. “Yes, I can sense her at times, when she’s not blocking me. She’s gotten quite good at that.”

  It was a power that came with intimacy of the most intense kind between lower vamps. Elders possessed that ability solely due to their age. As Diego released the tight control he exerted over his own vampire abilities, he picked up sketchy images from Ryder’s mind. Violent images, but not of vampire mayhem. Of human malevolence. Within him the connection blossomed and suddenly, much as he imagined it was with Stacia, the vision sharpened and he tapped into the emotions running rampant through his friend.

  Diego was nearly undone by them all, so vividly alive. So achingly sad as he realized the truth of his friend’s relationship. Of Diana’s failing mortality.

  Ryder could not make the leap, but it wasn’t just about the jump to the next building. Ryder couldn’t make the leap to turn Diana. Diego understood it well. The maelstrom of doubt and yearning was much like his own.

  Snagging the back of Ryder’s neck, he pulled him into a tight embrace and whispered, “I understand.”

  When they broke apart, Diego turned his face upward to the skyscraper that gleamed like silver in the moonlight. Ryder, however, looked downward. Diego glanced where his friend pointed—the entrance to the parking garage beneath the building.

  In silent agreement, they separated. Ryder returned to the lower rooftop, dropped to the ground below and dashed across the street in a blur to human eyes, though Diego noted his passage easily.

  When his friend had entered the parking garage, Diego moved to an edge of the rooftop and gauged the distance to the van Winter building. He summoned every ounce of his inhuman strength and raced back across the roof.

  With a surge of power, he made the leap.

  He flew upward, streamlining his body to avoid wind resistance. It occurred to him in midflight that this leap was about more than the chasm of the busy New York avenue below and the glass skyscraper before him.

  It was a leap away from his vamp life as he had known it, and into the embrace of humanity with all its attendant pain and death. With all its emotion.

  Whether it was love or blood that had called him, he’d be a fool to ignore the emotions Ramona roused in him.

  The impact against the side of the building jarred the breath out of him, but he luckily found a hold in the metal window washers’ channels between the glass panels. Taking a moment to collect himself after his less than graceful landing, Diego realized he was just a few feet below the penthouse level. Luckily again, the floor with which he had painfully connected was empty and dark. Nothing within or above hinted that his presence had been noted.

  Down below might be a different story, he thought, wondering whether anyone would see him plastered there, fifty stories up. Maybe an eagle-eyed tourist with his trusty camera.

  With that thought in mind, Diego braced his toes as best he could against the glass, dug into the metal channels with his fingers and heaved upward one last time. He managed to get himself over the ledge, and as he landed, rolled toward some tall, dark shapes along one side of the penthouse balcony.

  Trees. A row of them in large pots created a barrier along one edge. He crouched behind one of the immense ceramic containers and peered toward the windows along one wall of the penthouse. With his heightened vamp senses, he could see past the glass to the figures who had entered and were once again arguing by the front door.

  Closing his eyes, he focused on those muffled sounds until they sharpened and he could make out the discussion.

  “The warrant is for the van Winter building, including any and all offices, residences or common areas owned, inhabited or frequented by one Frederick van Winter or John Henry,” Diana calmly told the multimillionaire’s attorneys. She didn’t wait for a reply. “Fan out,” she instructed her team.

  Diego picked up the sounds of shoes scuffing and tapping on the floors and carpets. The cops and two agents, their steps and sounds distinct. One approached the windows.

  Diana, he realized, without even opening his eyes. He could sense her much like he could another vamp, which puzzled him until he recollected the scattered images he had picked up in Ryder’s brain earlier. The fear that Diana was somehow different now.

  The FBI agent spared but a moment to scope out the balcony before returning to her search, yet Diego got the feeling she knew he was there. She’d sensed him much like his vamp radar had registered her presence.

  Long minutes passed torturously, and he couldn’t wait there any longer, wondering what was happening inside.

  He surged forward, toward another set of planters closer to the window, and positioned himself there, holding his breath as he noticed the two attorneys standing by the windows.

  Had they heard or seen him?

  When they remained inside, their attention clearly focused on the ongoing search, Diego relaxed and released a shaky breath. The sound of the penthouse door opening grabbed his attention. It was followed by the hurried steps of two men entering, then van Winter’s angry voice.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asked as Diana met him in the space just before the windows.

  She flashed her badge and was about to explain when Maggie Gonzalez stepped out of another room holding two plastic bags. From his position, Diego could make out what looked like a bundle of clothing and shoes.

  “These were in a pile for cleaning,” Maggie said. “They tested positive for blood.”

  Rage surged through Diego, breaking through the control he had on his demon. Instantly the fangs exploded from his mouth. He had to grip the edges of the pot before him to restrain himself. The pottery crumbled beneath his fingers as he fought the desire to tear van Winter apart.

  The older man barely glanced at the bags and, with a carefree shrug, replied, “A slight accident I had this morning.”

  Diana took the bags from Maggie and examined the one with the clothing. With a shake of her head, she said, “You’ll have to do better than that. These are high velocity blood spatters.”

  The man shrugged again. “I have nothing to say.”

  “Really?” Diana walked right up to him. “If Ramona Escobar dies because you don’t talk, all the high-priced lawyers in the world aren
’t going to be enough to protect you.”

  Van Winter backed away from her, seemingly unfazed. “Is that a threat?”

  “A promise,” Diana said, and walked to one wall lined by light maple bookcases filled with an assortment of books, photos and art objects. Motioning to it, she said, “There’s something not right about the spacing between these bookcases and the bedroom. There’s too much dead space.”

  Daly stepped up from behind van Winter and examined the area. “I think you’re right, Special Agent.” He instructed two of his men to clear off the bookcases. To the other two he said, “See if you can get a sledgehammer, and if not, grab a battering ram from one of the cruisers.”

  “You can’t do this,” van Winter protested, finally beginning to lose his unnatural calm.

  “I see now just how sick you are, Frederick. You have no care for humans, only for this.” Diana gestured at all the appointments in the luxurious apartment.

  Her words struck a little too close to home for Diego. At one time, he had been much like van Winter. But no longer. And he could no longer wait there, wondering about Ramona’s whereabouts. He doubted she was in the space behind the bookcases. Van Winter would not be stupid enough to do that.

  Which meant that she was either with his bodyguard or in some other part of the building. Or worse, he thought, somewhere not nearby at all.

  Daly’s cell phone rang. The detective answered, but the voice on the other end of the line was too muffled for Diego to discern.

  “A patrol car spotted John Henry in Soho and grabbed him,” Daly said when he clicked off.

  A second later, Diana’s cell phone chirped, as well, but Diego knew it was only a diversion. He had sensed a change in her as she stood there, and knew that Ryder had somehow communicated with her. She spoke briefly into the phone and afterward addressed the attorneys. “The warrant gives us permission to search all the common areas. Peter, can you get us a few more uniforms?”

  “Will do. What’s next?” Daly asked.

  “Maggie, come with me. Let’s check the lobby and any points of egress. Have the uniforms meet us there. We can fan out to the basement and common areas.”

  Diego knew just where she would instruct them to go—to the underground parking garage. He suspected Ryder had found something and had clued Diana in on it moments earlier.

  Diego wasn’t about to wait a second longer.

  Chapter 22

  A low, insistent thudding penetrated the fog she had slipped into. She imagined someone calling her name in rhythm with the pounding beats.

  Ramona. Ramona. Ramona.

  She tried to raise her head, but it lolled listlessly to the side. Her mouth bone-dry, she called out, but only managed a strangled croak.

  The intensity of the pounding increased and she heard other muffled voices from beyond the metal door, followed by a loud bang and the shattering of glass.

  “She’s in here.”

  A moment later, a police officer was at her side, his face fuzzy in her vision. “You’re okay, miss. We’ll get you free in a second.”

  He left her and opened the side door, allowing others into the small space.

  She squinted against the brighter light, and as she did so, Diego’s face came into focus. She mouthed his name, unable to phonate as her breath failed her.

  “Easy, querida. Help is here.” He knelt by her side as the police officers began removing the bindings.

  When she sagged forward, Diego was there, catching her before she fell and taking her into his arms. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, feeling incredibly tired.

  Diego sensed the thready and rapid beat of her heart as he grasped her and jumped down from the van. The indignant whine of the ambulance Diana had called echoed against the walls of the subbasement before the driver screeched to a halt beside the van and shut off the siren.

  Diego carried her to the back of the ambulance, Diana and Maggie at his sides. He didn’t wait for the EMTs to pull out the gurney; he hopped into the back of the ambulance and gently laid her on it. Maggie joined him, but asked him to step aside so that she could examine Ramona.

  Knowing how weak she was, he complied, hopping back down to where Diana was busy barking orders into her cell phone. Daly stood beside her, along with Ryder. As they waited, he heard the squealing tires of another vehicle approaching.

  The police car stopped a few yards away and Melissa Danvers burst from the backseat and ran toward them.

  As she took note of Maggie inside the ambulance, she jumped up and went to the other doctor’s assistance, saying, “We can’t delay. We need to get her to the hospital.”

  Maggie raced to the back of the ambulance, gave them a pained look and closed the doors. Diego heard someone shout to the drivers to get moving, and they hit the siren and lights, accelerated up the ramp and out of view.

  He stood there, silently staring at his friends. Finally, Diana reached out and said, “Go. I’ll finish things here and we’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  He nodded and walked away from the officers at the scene. After jogging slowly across the nearly deserted parking lot until he was out of sight, he warped into vamp velocity.

  Ramona managed a weak smile as Melissa’s face came into focus. The doctor was hooking up an IV, while another woman came close and offered her small sips of water. Ramona drank slowly, but even that was too much. The water had no sooner gone down than she was retching it back up. It splattered against the brilliant white sheets on the gurney, staining them pink with streaks of blood.

  “She might be hemorrhaging internally,” the woman said, even as she passed a soft piece of moist gauze across Ramona’s lips, trying to ease her thirst.

  “Abdomen’s distended,” Melissa noted. Though she applied the slightest pressure, it was enough to radiate pain throughout Ramona’s midsection. She moaned and arched her back, crying out in agony.

  “I think her spleen and liver have been compromised, Maggie,” Melissa advised.

  “Hurts,” Ramona whispered.

  “We know, hon,” said the woman. Gently, Maggie wiped away the dried remnants of blood and spittle from Ramona’s face. When she once again offered her a soaked piece of gauze, Ramona sucked on it, able to keep down the almost minuscule amount of water.

  A sharp turn sent both doctors reeling against the gurney. The jarring movement brought Ramona more pain. Within her chest, her heart raced and seemed to skip a beat. She struggled for breath, her body suddenly numb in spots.

  A second later, Maggie slipped an oxygen mask over her face while Melissa stuck a syringe into the IV. Ramona shook her head, wanting to shout that she didn’t need to sleep. She didn’t want the unnatural rest the medicines provided.

  She fought for one breath after another, a wild rhythm taking hold in her chest until everything blurred. Still she battled the dullness brought on by the medications, thinking that she would have time enough to sleep when she was dead.

  Diego hung back from the entrance for incoming patients, knowing that his arrival before the ambulance would draw the attention of the FBI agent with Melissa. While she appeared to be a friend of Diana’s, he was unsure whether she knew of his and Ryder’s peculiar state.

  The minutes seemed interminable until he finally picked up the wail of an am
bulance. Counting on it being the one with Ramona, he felt everything within him jump to life.

  As the sounds grew closer, two orderlies opened the emergency room door and a short brunette nurse stepped from inside, a stethoscope draped around her neck. She seemed impatient, pacing back and forth near the doorway, never noticing him as he lurked in the shadows beyond. The narrow alley with the hospital’s refuse bins provided a perfect hiding place.

  The cry of the siren grew louder and then stopped before reaching him. He wondered why and stepped from his spot. That was when the nurse saw him, still in his vamp mode, but she said nothing, nor did she run. Instead, she curtly nodded her head, as if unfazed by his unusual state.

  The ambulance sped by him, and as the glare of the red and white lights bathed him, he used that opportunity to morph back to his human form. He hoped the nurse might be convinced that all she’d seen was a trick of the lights.

  As the ambulance pulled up to the curb, the nurse went to the back to open the door. The EMTs helped bring down the gurney holding Ramona.

  Even from this distance Diego could see how pale and still she was. The grim looks on the faces of Melissa and Maggie did nothing to assuage his fears about Ramona’s condition. He waited until they were wheeling her in through the doors and then approached, trying to make it appear as if he had just arrived.

  The nurse he had seen earlier was getting a report from Melissa when he stepped inside the entryway. “Can we help you?” she asked, her eyes narrowed as she took in his altered appearance.

  “Diego,” Melissa called. And at that the nurse asked, “You know him?”

  Maggie came to his defense. “He’s with us. I’ll stay with him until—”

  “I’m going wherever Ramona is going,” he said, his tone adamant.