Midnight Bite

by Hamilton, Sharon

  Salaman knew what was coming next, so, before the uniform could ask the appropriate question, he plunged a six-inch blade right into the middle of his gut. Out of control now, the officer couldn’t help but pitch forward, bumping his head on the roof of the SUV. That gave Salaman just enough time to retrieve his knife and slit his jugular, which dropped him to the ground.

  In his rearview mirror, Salaman observed the driver on the radio. Putting the Lexus in reverse, he rammed the patrol car, pushing it off the narrow driveway and down into the ravine, where it tumbled, overturning several times, until it reached the bottom.

  He knew his chances for escape were predicated on his leaving the scene quickly or he’d get ensnared in a multiple call event, which would certainly result in his capture. He raced back to the main road leading to the winery, back down in the valley floor, rounding the corner just before he heard sirens arriving in the distance.

  He left the Lexus at the back of the warehouse and ran through the sliding door.

  Just as he’d feared, he saw Phoebe beginning to stir. He quickly took out the drug kit from his tool bag and administered the tranquilizer, which stopped her movement.

  Her forehead was getting cold, and Salaman began to worry. He needed to speed up the process. He had no choice but to call Carmine Monteleone.

  “Shut up and if you value the lives of your family you’ll do exactly as I say,” The traveler commanded.

  He heard Carmine’s gasp of fear.

  “I just talked to them about an hour ago. They know about you, Traveler. I think you’re fucked.”

  “Yeah? Seems to me I do hold some pretty important cards. But never mind. I could care less what you think about it. You’re in no position to negotiate.”

  “I can’t help you. I promised. They’re watching me.”

  “I’ll bet they are. I’m counting on it.”

  “I—I can’t travel. I’m not going there anymore.”

  “I don’t want you to. And since when is your word worth anything? Remember, I chose you because you’re a good liar. But don’t you dare lie to me.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “You’re going to have to. I want you to call Marcus Monteleone and arrange for a trade. I have Phoebe, and I want to exchange her for the Book of Spawn,” he said.

  “That’s what I told them. I told them you would trade.”

  “That’s very good, Carmine. I’m actually pleased you said that. So, you have Marcus come all by himself. Not with any of his attack dogs. And he’s to bring the book. Once I have it, I’ll release Phoebe.”

  “Where?” Carmine asked.

  Salaman gave the address of the cottage. “Tell him I’ll be waiting there. Once I have the book, I’ll let him know where he can pick up Phoebe.”

  “After this, I’m done. No more of this. As it is, I’ll be lucky if they don’t strip me of all my land holdings. I’ll be begging on the streets.”

  “You’ll be done when I say you’ll be done.” The groan he heard on the other end of the line was satisfying. “I’m going to call you in five minutes, and you can report back that he’s agreed to come.”

  Chapter 17

  Lionel received a very weak message from Phoebe lasting less than thirty seconds. She was confused, her head hurt, and she was trying to recount what had happened, but the link kept going in and out, from a jumble of emotions to blankness. He immediately reached out, trying to strengthen the connection, repeating his question over and over again to find out her location. He hoped that he could then follow, trace to her side.

  Everyone in the house held their breath as he repeated and then awaited her instructions.

  But before Phoebe could answer, their link completely disappeared. No matter how intensely he tried, he just couldn’t reach her. A wave of sadness washed over him as he wondered if he’d lost her.

  Jeb and Hugh were at his side, consoling him. “Have I failed to get there in time?” he sobbed. Nothing the brothers could say would remove his total sense of dread. Marcus had an explanation.

  “I think she’s being drugged. I think that perhaps she started to come to and then was drugged again,” he whispered. “That’s the only explanation for this.”

  “Unless she’s gone. Oh, the God of Vampires has failed me!” Lionel shouted, making the windows in the entire estate rattle. He tore himself loose from his brothers’ embrace and began to pace the room. Every object he looked at he wanted to destroy, and he had the strength to do it, too. His fingernails dug into his palms while he clutched and scratched at the very air he breathed, trying to hold on to some trace of her.

  Just then, Marcus received a call from the Sonoma County Sheriff. He put it to speaker phone so everyone could hear.

  “We had a car following a Lexus of that description. They’ve not been able to verify the plate, but it appears to have a single occupant.”

  “Where? I need an address,” Lionel barked.

  “The vehicle is moving, but as soon as our deputy checks in, we’ll get that for you.”

  Marcus interrupted. “Can you give us some street coordinates? Perhaps we could send someone to assist in the search.”

  “We generally don’t want civilian population involved—”

  “This is an extremely special case,” Marcus returned. “We have assets—”

  “As soon as they check in. They were headed out River Road, away from town, and that’s all I’m going to be able to give you, Marcus.”

  Lionel looked up and saw the raw pain and determination of his two brothers. “Do you think—?”

  “On it,” Hugh said. The two conferred, picking a location they were familiar with and were gone within seconds.

  Lionel tried to reach Phoebe, but still the connection was silent.

  Anne and Cara appeared at the doorway to Marcus’ library, Paolo trailing a short distance behind. Cara held the Book in her hands. “We’ve found something, Marcus.” She brought the heavy tome over to where Lionel had seated himself, laying it on his lap and turning it around.

  “We started looking for the plate Phoebe accessed yesterday,” Anne began. “And we’ve found it.”

  She fingered a piece of paper used to save a location, opening it on Lionel’s lap. Everyone saw the drawing with the cage and the lion.

  “Look at what’s in the cage,” Cara pointed.

  Lionel focused on the drawing, seeing objects he’d not recalled before. The lion looked the same, in stylized, seated form, like a statue on a pyramid or temple, proudly looking down on the woman lying on the ground before his feet. Beside him lay a book, a very think book, like the one that was on his lap.

  “Oh my God!” he gasped. “What does this mean?”

  Cara answered first. “We don’t know, but I have a hunch. Touch it, Lionel. Run your fingers over it just like Phoebe did yesterday.”

  As he did so, letters appeared at the side. Anne and Cara smiled to each other.

  “Marcus, can you read this? I believe it’s Latin,” Lionel asked.

  He knelt to get a better view. Lionel took his fingers off the page and the letters disappeared.

  “No, keep touching it, don’t stop,” said Paolo.

  Marcus craned his neck and mumbled something, testing out a meaning, and then stopped. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Tell me, dammit,” Lionel demanded.

  “Bonds of the heart are stronger than blood,” or something to that effect.”

  “Do you suppose the words are different for Phoebe?” Paolo asked.

  “Could be. But my sense is this is you, Lionel. This lion is you.”

  “And the woman must be Phoebe. Where, where is this cage?”

  “But don’t you see?” said Cara. “This shows you together, Lionel. You’ve found her. And these words are the key.”

  “Try sending something to her from your heart. Don’t think about it. Feel your message coming to her from your heart. It’s a healing message, not a request for information,” e
xplained Anne.

  Her comment sent Marcus on his rear. “I wonder—”

  Lionel closed his eyes and let the warmth in his chest expand until he could feel the heavy thumping of his heart muscle throughout his body. He didn’t use words, but searched for her not in a place, but by searching for a match to the vibrations of his heart.

  And he found her. He even saw her moving.

  A shadow crossed his vision and he retreated to a corner to remain undetected. He was vaguely aware someone had tucked the folded book under his arm and as he held it securely, he traced to the room where Phoebe lay on a dirty mattress.

  But she was not alone. Salaman had just injected her with a yellowish liquid. He tried to scream but found he had no voice.

  He reached out again from his heart, sending healing her way in a vapor Salaman apparently couldn’t detect. But Phoebe stopped moaning and lay perfectly still.

  A cell phone rang and in the distance. He heard Marcus answer it.

  “Tell me again,” he heard Marcus say as the response was played on speaker.

  “I’m on my way,” Marcus whispered. Lionel said the same, which drew the attention of Salaman.

  The tracing was complete. Lionel stood in the middle of a locked compartment. A few feet away, Phoebe’s lifeless body lay on the mattress he’d visualized before. Salaman was headed right for him, and then he noticed the silver chains wound around the closure.

  He kicked the door grate wide open before the chains could be wrapped around the bars, but Salaman still stood in front of him holding the shiny links. He threw them at Lionel, catching him on the left arm and causing him to drop the book. The echo of the heavy text hitting the concrete floor sounded like canon fire.

  Silver burns began to send Lionel’s shirt into flames. He quickly shed the white fabric and threw it on the ground. It landed on top of the book.

  Salaman screamed, running to protect the precious ancient pages. Lionel traced beyond the storage room to the other side, next to Anne, picking her up, prepared to trace.

  Marcus suddenly appeared and began kicking Salaman hard as he bent over the floor stamping out flames of a rapidly spreading fire. Part of the cover was already burning. He kicked the mortal devil again and then yanked him up by his arms, shaking him until he could hear the crunch of bone. The man’s scream was cut short when Marcus twisted his head around, breaking his neck.

  Flames were spreading when the fire hit the gasoline canister and exploded.

  “Go!” Marcus yelled.

  Lionel had already begun to trace the two of them back to the Monteleone estate.

  The last he saw of Marcus was as he pulled the burning book from the floor and tucked it to his chest.

  Lionel and Phoebe appeared on the patio near Anne’s flower garden. He heard faint sirens in the distance, and ran inside, laying the lifeless Phoebe down on the couch just as Marcus arrived. Deep red and black burn marks scarred his skin. His hands were black, but they still held the smoldering book, which he dropped to the floor.

  “Is she alive?” he wanted to know.

  Lionel checked her pulse and felt her cool, clammy skin. His heart sank. He knew the lifeforce was leaving her, her heartbeat was slowing down and soon would stop.

  “He’s overdosed her,” Lionel gasped. “I’m losing her.”

  All four people in the room knew the choices that had to be made. Even if it meant breaking all the taboos, Phoebe’s life came first.

  Lionel only had seconds. He began to open his wrist.

  “Wait!” Cara screamed. “Trace to the chapel, the place you were married. Or, Marcus you will have to do it. Otherwise, she’ll be dark.”

  “We have no more time.” Marcus’ calm demeanor helped Lionel think.

  The words. What are the words?

  “The heart is stronger than the blood,” Lionel recited. “I’m going to try.”

  “Wait,” Marcus interrupted him. “It’s nearly sunrise there. Will you make it before it turns day?”

  “I must,” Lionel said as he grabbed Phoebe and traced to the chapel. He pushed out of his mind all the concerns about it being full of worshipers, or that he’d land in the narthex by open doors and would end up in a fireball, killing the woman he loved. But he shut everything off, opened his eyes and was blissfully engulfed in cool darkness.

  He’d heard about these turnings, supposed to be done by a priest, but also could be done by a fated mate, and Lionel was certain they were. He only hoped he hadn’t gotten there too late.

  He lay her down on the cool marble slab of the altar, brushing aside the crosses and gold implements of their service. Her beautiful lips were turning blue, just like dying looked on the mortals he’d seen.

  With tears streaming down his cheeks, he spoke the words again. And again. He cut his wrist and applied his blood to her mouth, puckering her a bit so it would fall on her tongue.

  She didn’t move.

  He deepened the cut, applying it again to her mouth, and was about to slice deeper when her upper torso arched up and she gasped for breath. She was still limp, but she was breathing, craving the blood of his body, and her color was pinking up.

  Both Marcus and Paolo suddenly appeared, running down the center aisle toward them both.

  “She’s breathing!” he shouted.

  Phoebe’s hands came up to his forearm and she grabbed him tight, taking in more of Lionel’s blood. At last, she opened her eyes.

  She saw his tears, and worry overtook her expression. Marcus and Paolo stood beside him as she asked, “What have you done?”

  Lionel was relieved he’d saved her life, but suddenly ashamed he’d not turned her as he’d wanted.

  “Forgive me, my beloved. Please forgive me. I have forever taken away your mortal life. I will leave you, if you desire, but you are safe now. I would not be able to live with myself if I didn’t do this.”

  He couldn’t stop the visions of their lovemaking and how he ached for her. His chest was warmed by the memories of exploration that had grown what he was sure was their destiny. He was grateful they’d had those days, and wondered if her recall would do the same, softening her heart. But she did not smile. She sat, stunned.

  And then she began speaking the words he’d spoken to her, “The bonds of the heart are stronger than blood. You said that to me.”

  “Yes.”

  He watched her examine her hands and rub her tongue over her teeth. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she finally smiled. Lionel’s heart leapt.

  Two small fangs protruded beneath her upper lip.

  “I am alive. I felt myself die, my spirit left my body.”

  “But you came back. Our love brought you back.” He embraced her tenderly, careful not to hurt her fragile body.

  Marcus cleared his throat, attempting to get their attention. Lionel turned to him, but Phoebe remained fixated on her husband.

  “I’ve seen it done, some of these ceremonies,” he said softly. “Go ahead and complete the cycle. You should drink from her, let her body give you back the life that you’ve given her, and perhaps you will be turned as well with her Golden blood.”

  “I already have,” Lionel whispered. “And we are not only a fated pair, but we are a mated pair as well.”

  “I’m going to let you explain all this to her parents, then.” Marcus and Paolo took several steps back and disappeared into the ether.

  “No more secrets?” she asked, her forefinger rubbing against his lower lip. She was continuing to warm up to him, her cheeks now flushed and healthy.

  “None. Everything I have is yours, Phoebe. It always will be.” His doubts crept in again. “Do you suppose we are the same, or different?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, sweet Phoebe, because the heart is stronger. What I have inside is stronger than how I was made.”

  “Can I try?” she asked, rolling up her lip to show her fangs.

  “With pleasure. And may I?”

  “With
wild abandon.”

  “Should we trace home, do it there?” he asked.

  “Why take chances with our eternity? Take from me now, while I do the same. We’ll add all the rest when we’re back in California, unless you want to join me in Hell.”

  Phoebe’s smile was wide. She was self-conscious of how it exposed her new identity, and Lionel knew she’d make the adjustment in time, like he had. She brushed her hair from her neck and shoulder as he kissed the side of her cheek and nibbled kisses under her ear. He heard her moan as he dug deep, tasting the sweet elixir of his beloved.

  There was no doubt in Lionel’s mind that she’d changed. He thanked the God of Vampires for giving him the chance to have eternity with the one he loved.

  ‘Teach me, Phoebe. Help me become your perfect mate.’

  ‘You already are, Lionel.’

  Her hot breath made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. As he had instructed, she kissed a line from his ear down to his clavicle, coating it with her tongue. She bit down, breeching his skin, completing the eternal cycle.

  Chapter 18

  She would remember that day in Tuscany, so different than the last time she was in that chapel. That had been her wedding day. This had been the first day of her real life. She trusted the words Lionel had whispered to her, the words he’d read in the Book of Spawn. If it was really true, and not some gothic fairytale, he’d be able to take those first steps out of the chapel, and walk with her through the busy streets, losing himself in the crowd of shoppers.

  As the large carved oak doors creaked open, sunlight flooded the foyer, casting bright streaks across the black and cream tiled room. It illuminated the white marble holy water font and the tips of his shoes. They held hands, side by side. He paused.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” she asked. “Remember, you asked me that a few days ago, remember?”

  Lionel was in deep contemplation, but that generated a smile on his lips. “I remember every detail of that evening.” He squeezed her hand, but still stared down at his feet.