by L. K. Below
Undoubtedly, he could see better than she could. Even squinting, she had to hold her hands in front of her to keep from walking into a wall. She couldn’t make out Terrence’s form. She stumbled into the next street. Light filtered from the dim lamp outside someone’s door.
Terrence wasn’t there.
Lori curled her fists. He couldn’t have gone far. Maybe she could still catch up–if she chose the right direction. She peered one way down the street, then the other. If she made the wrong choice…
“Are you planning on standing here all night?”
Terrence’s voice, but it held none of his usual warmth. Lori jumped. She turned, her fingers itching for the stake in her boot. Did he suspect she’d followed him? From his tone of voice, she thought so.
He leaned against the mouth of the alley. The light barely reached him there, only displaying part of his face. One fang winked in the darkness. His eyes seemed a darker color than usual, their expression more distant. Must be a trick of the light.
She couldn’t have pissed him off that much by following him, right?
When he didn’t say anything more, she shifted guiltily. “I’m just deciding where to start.” His hooded gaze studied her, as if gauging her words. He didn’t call her on the lie. Instead, he motioned for her to walk.
Come to think of it, where should she start? She had her money on the fact that Terrence had taken the Spenta Michos. If she’d been genuinely looking for a lead, she supposed she would start in a public place. There were few enough of those open at this hour. A bar or a restaurant would have to do. A decrepit town like this wouldn’t have much of anything else open at night. Turning her back on Terrence made her skin crawl, but she forced herself to do it anyway. Striding down the street, she listened for the babble of voices. Tailoring her direction to meet them, she noticed a lone woman peeking outside her house. Upon spotting them, the woman hurried to duck into her house.
“Wait,” Lori called. “We’re looking for someone.”
The woman paused on the threshold. She clearly wanted to shut the door in their faces.
Lori jogged forward, grateful she hadn’t slathered on her usual makeup tonight. While she belonged to a subset of people in the city, out here a goth would be an aberration. Potentially an off-putting one.
The woman pursed her lips. Deep worry lines sketched the woman’s mouth and forehead. “You should know better than to be lookin’ for folks this time of night. A nice girl like you is easy prey.”
Prey? Lori forced a smile. “Is there a high crime rate around here?” She wanted to know what to look out for. Not that she couldn’t handle herself.
The woman shivered, clutching her sweater around her shoulders. “More than burglars ’round these parts. You should run home, girly, and quick.”
Lori blinked as the woman shut the door in her face. Was a little common courtesy too much to ask? She sighed. A quick glance proved Terrence still lurked in shadow of a nearby door. Knowing he would follow, Lori continued down the street.
She found a bar, teeming with business, if the raucous sounds from within were any indication. Plenty of people to question. Maybe even a young man or two she’d be able to wrap around her finger. Not that she was particularly accustomed to flirting…or skilled at the art, for that matter, but she’d never lacked for male attention before. Terrence was proof that for some unfathomable reason, men liked her frosty demeanor.
She glanced over her shoulder at Terrence, who still cowered in the shadows. What, had he developed an allergy to artificial light now, too? “Come on.”
“No.” His voice was thin compared to the dull roar coming from the establishment.
Lori rolled her eyes. She reached out and grabbed his hand. The babble dropped away as a vision swamped her.
Terrence lingered in the shadows as Lori exited a building. But she wasn’t dressed normally–no makeup, a headscarf covered her hair and her dress was about a century out of date. Her hand clutched a small bottle.
She blinked and the vision fled. Just what had it meant? That she’d known Terrence in a past life?
Terrence recoiled with a hiss, yanking his hand out of hers. If she touched him again, would the vision return? The sudden clench of her stomach warned that something ominous was about to happen–either in the vision, or in the bar. But Terrence had backed too far out of reach for her to determine what.
Her skin was still warm from the heat of his hand. He’d been more than warm–scalding, in fact. Could vampires get fevers?
“I’ll stay outside,” he said. His voice was sharp. It brooked no argument.
She balled her fists at her side. “Fine,” she spat. If he didn’t want to help, she would work better without his interference. Without another word, she marched into the bar.
Chapter 5
Terrence lingered by the door when Lori exited less than an hour later with no results. No one had seen someone of the Spenta Michos’s description. But then, she hadn’t expected the search to be easy. Why would the kidnapper–be it Terrence or someone else–let the Spenta Michos wander unrestricted?
As she walked, Terrence fell into step behind her. She didn’t speak to him. Midway down the street, her frustration got the better of her. She’d wasted enough time for any open restaurants to have closed for the evening. This late, she had nowhere left to search. She sighed.
“We might as well go back to the roo–” She turned, but Terrence’s familiar form was nowhere in sight. “–oom. Fan-fucking-tastic. He left me here.” She rubbed her forehead. At least she was familiar enough with the labyrinth layout of a city to find her way back to the motel in this small a town.
She didn’t see a soul on the way back. Terrence had the key, but she picked the lock and let herself in, anyway. He stood inside their room, arms crossed and a fierce scowl curling his lips.
“You’re late.”
“What?” She shut the door behind her, shaking her head. He’d gone insane.
“We agreed to meet back at midnight. It’s twelve-thirty.”
And he’d been with her the whole damn time, so what did it matter? She shoved the pins into her pocket, determined to ignore him.
“Lori–”
“What?” she snapped.
He cupped her shoulders, drawing her closer. Oh, suddenly he craved her touch? Then what had he been so wary about on the street? Unless he’d suspected she’d had another vision. Well, she would keep this one to herself. At least until she knew what it meant.
She yanked away, but he tightened his hold. He smelled warm and sturdy, like well-aged scotch. “You have to trust me. If we’re going to make any progress at all, we have to share what we’ve discovered.”
You’d know if you’d come into the bar with me. Lori swallowed down the thought. “Nothing,” she spat. “I found nothing.”
With a sigh, Terrence released her. He threaded a hand through his hair. “Same,” he said, voice defeated. Then, squaring his shoulders, he said, “We’ll make more progress tomorrow.”
He sounded as though he genuinely believed that.
* * * *
Lori woke and left the room while Terrence was still passed out on the floor.
The sun shone, blinding her as she stepped outside. In the light of day, the shabby houses stood in stark relief, wedged up against one another. Some likely wouldn’t be able to stand without the support of others on either side. Lori walked quickly to the nearby diner.
The “diner” was little more than a fish and chip stand. Lori ordered the chips, sans fish, thank you very much. She sat at the counter and nursed a coffee, thinking.
The waitress, a weathered woman, set the plate of fries down without a word.
Lori sprinkled the plate with salt and waited as the woman refilled her black coffee.
“I’m looking for someone,” she said finally. “A man.”
“Aren’t we all?” the woman muttered under her breath.
Lori cracked a smile. “This one goes by
the name of Michael.”
“You’re going to have to give me more than that, m’dear.”
“He’s black. Close to six feet tall.”
The waitress started shaking her head before Lori finished the sentence. “Sorry, m’love. Haven’t seen no one hereabouts by that description. But you let me know if you find him.” With a wink, the waitress sauntered down the counter to serve another customer.
Lori stifled a sigh. No use trying to explain her true purpose. And asking after the Spenta Michos seemed to be a waste of time, too. But what else could she do? She scooped a pair of fries into her mouth. The soft, chewy potatoes tasted like charcoal. How could she sit here eating when the Spenta Michos could be nearby? Someone had to know something. Lori stood, ready to leave and try another tact.
A uniformed police officer barreled through the door, looking shaken. He rested a hand over his paunch as he caught his breath. His face was ashen. He waved the waitress over.
Lori slowly settled back onto the stool as she eavesdropped.
“The devil took Mary,” he wheezed.
The waitress swayed and looked like she might faint. Instead, she choked out, “When?”
“Last night. Found her body just blocks from here, behind her house.”
“Which house?” Lori nearly cringed when she realized she’d spoken out loud.
The officer barely glanced at her. He rattled off an address as he turned his attention to the waitress.
Lori pressed a hand to her mouth. Her meal swished in her stomach, threatening to climb out. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The officer.
“Did you know her?”
Lori nodded, then shook her head. She didn’t know how to answer. She swallowed against her suddenly parched throat. “I spoke with her last night. She warned me not to be out after dark.”
The portly man nodded. “Words to be livin’ by, missy. The devil takes who he wants, these days.”
When the officer had first cited Satan, Lori had thought he spoke metaphorically. But it didn’t sound that way. “The devil? What do you mean?”
The officer’s mouth flattened. “Mary was found with two punctures in her neck.” He moved his fingers over his own collar, spacing them two inches apart on his throat. “The devil sucked her dry.”
Moving off, the officer patted the waitress on the shoulder and exited the diner.
Lori tossed a bill onto the counter and hurried after him. “Officer!”
He paused. Twilight had gathered outside, deepening the shadows spawning along the eaves. Dirt squelched under her boots.
As she caught up, Lori said, “You can’t really believe Satan is behind this. You, an officer of the law…”
The man looked weary. No, exhausted. He ran a hand over his balding pate. “Missy, I’ve seen a lot in my day. But this…there’s no other explanation. There’s no way to combat him.”
Lori chewed on her lower lip. The officer might insist, but she knew better. The devil hadn’t killed that woman. A vampire had.
Terrence? The woman had seemed to be warning Lori away from something…or someone. Maybe the woman had known about Terrence. About what he was really capable of.
“Can you tell me what’s been going on around here?” Lori was no detective, but she held her shoulders straight. A bluff. Like maybe, she might just be important enough to stop this.
The officer rolled his shoulders. “I’m working late tonight. Someone has to file the paperwork about what happened to poor ol’ Mary. Come by the station around nine o’clock. I should be done by then.”
Lori nodded. She tugged out her cellphone to check the time. Three hours to kill.
“What was that about?”
Terrence’s cold, sharp voice startled her. She turned, spotting him wedged into an alcove between two buildings. She could barely make out his form, but it was him.
“Nothing,” she said. “Let’s keep looking.”
This time, she led Terrence in circles. She went to the same bar as yesterday–and, again, Terrence opted to wait outside. In case he had his ear pressed up to the door, she went through the motions of looking for the Spenta Michos. The same question, over and over again. And all the while she wondered how she would separate herself from Terrence long enough to visit the police department.
At ten-to-nine, she stepped cautiously out into the open air, searching for Terrence. Maybe he would believe she’d forgotten something in the motel room. But she didn’t see him anywhere. Where had he gone?
Maybe she shouldn’t question her good luck.
Inside, she’d asked for directions to the police department. Now she raced for her destination. Terrence could return at any moment. She’d never get answers out of the officer about the vampire pandemic if she did. Unfortunately, Terrence had an uncanny ability to find her no matter how hard she tried to hide.
She heard a noise. The crunch of footsteps. When she turned, she nearly tripped over her feet. The half-darkened street swirled in a nauseating blur. Thankfully, she managed to catch her balance before she fell. She crouched, feeling for the stake in her boot as she scanned the shadows. Not a shadow stirred.
She continued unhindered, but couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that someone watched her. Was Terrence keeping his distance? Unlikely. He usually made his presence annoyingly known. Whether she wanted his company or not.
When she reached the police department, she stopped to peer into the night. No sign of Terrence or anyone else. In fact, aside from those drinking themselves into a stupor in the bar, no one prowled the streets. Surely, even in a town this small that was unusual? It wasn’t that late. People seemingly barricaded themselves in their homes the very moment the sun set. Lori balled her fists. Past time to figure out what was going on.
And if Terrence was responsible… What then? She’d staked him once before. Squaring her shoulders, she reassured herself she would do it again. And this time it would stick. She’d tolerated him thus far because he’d seemed harmless enough, unless pressed. Sure, she’d seen him kill, but those had been life-or-death situations. Murdering an innocent person, that was a different situation altogether.
She entered the darkened station. A light shone from the back. Should she just walk in? She’d test the waters first. “Hello?”
No answer.
Maybe he hadn’t heard her. She repeated herself–loudly. Surely, the officer hadn’t left? She’d been lucky enough to shake Terrence once. That kind of luck wouldn’t hold out for more than one day.
She crept closer to the room. Even with straining ears, she didn’t hear any signs of paper shuffling or scribbling. The air smelled faintly metallic–frankly, a relief from the stench outdoors. Upon reaching the back room, she knocked and eased the door open.
The officer was sprawled on the ground, pale as death. Perhaps because he was dead. His legs stuck at odd angles. Blood stained his collar, seeping away from two puncture wounds. Those wounds were only made by one thing. A vampire.
Lori wanted to hurl. She wanted to feel disgusted at the sight, but she wasn’t. Instead, she was furious.
Another death. She wouldn’t let that smug, persistent bastard get away with it. Not when her indecision might cause someone else’s death. Drawing her stake from her boot, she picked her way out of the station. Then she gunned for her rented motel room.
Terrence would pay, if it meant her last breath.
The motel room was empty. Lori turned it over, searching for Terrence or any belongings which might lead to the Spenta Michos’s rescue. When she came up empty, she took a stance near the doorway to wait. She’d seen how fast Terrence could move. If she didn’t catch him by surprise, she might end up with a blood deficiency. That was to say, she would have none. She adjusted her grip on the stake.
But when Terrence marched through the door, she hesitated. His expression was open, honest. The Terrence she knew. How could he face her if he had been responsible for killing two people in the space of a day? Maybe she
was wrong. Maybe it was somebody else. A copycat. But would a faux-vampire be able to suck a person dry?
Unlikely. It took a superhuman ability–or hunger–to master that. She readied herself for battle.
Terrence turned. His gaze flickered to her weapon, but he didn’t move. Not to turn hostile. Not to defend himself. His eyes darkened as worry clouded his face. “Lori, are you all right? Did something happen?”
Yes, something happened. You killed two people.
The words refused to leave her mouth. She didn’t want to say them. Didn’t want to accuse him. How could she be sure if he was the vampire responsible? Theoretically, there were others, right?
The vision. She’d barely seen a snippet last time. If she only touched him, maybe she would see more. Lowering the stake, she reached for him with her free hand.
The skin of his wrist was warm, but not hot. No vision came. She firmed her grip, looking up to read his expression.
His gaze turned lustful. He drew her close. His sturdy chest pillowed her breasts. Only thin cloth and the leather of his jacket separated them. He smelled spicy, like cinnamon. Slowly, he lowered his head. Giving her time to pull away.
But she’d gotten a vision off him that way once before, hadn’t she? Instead of fighting, she shut her eyes. Waiting.
His mouth settled on hers. Warm. Seductive. But her earlier vision didn’t blossom. She started to pull away.
He deepened the kiss. His tongue probed the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. His hand captured her nape. Holding her steady, preventing her escape. His free hand traveled her collarbone. Shivers erupted over her skin. He continued over her arm to where she still held her stake. Gently, he pried it away. Then he maneuvered her backward. Her legs bumped the bed.
She broke away, gasping for breath. “Don’t,” she warned.
He stared at her a moment more, clutching her to his aroused body. Then, abruptly, he let her go.
She didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or moan in frustration.
