Rajmund

by D. B. Reynolds

  She parked in front of her house and dragged herself up the front stairs, wondering if she should call Raj and apologize. It was still daylight, which meant she wouldn't have to risk having him hang up on her. She could just leave a message on his voice mail and slink back into her corner of guilt. But, maybe he wouldn't even listen to it, maybe he'd hear her voice and hit delete, which was no more than she deserved. Damnit.

  She unlocked her front door, grateful that Mrs. M. was over at her son's house today and not waiting to pounce with another Tupperware container. Her cell rang as she was pushing the door open and she dropped her purse on the floor, fumbling her keys as she patted her pockets looking for the phone. She grabbed it on the fourth ring, just before it would have gone to voice mail.

  "Hello,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.

  "Sarah Stratton?"

  She grew still, listening hard. The voice was familiar, but . . . “Yes,” she said cautiously.

  "This is Edward Blackwood. I believe we met, in a manner of speaking, the other night. You were having dinner with the vampire, Raymond Gregor."

  "Oh.” Her lungs strained to produce enough air for that one syllable, to keep breathing in and out. She sank down on the stairs, heedless of her purse sitting on the floor by the still open front door.

  "Of course, we weren't properly introduced,” Blackwood was saying. “But I was speaking to that police detective, Mr. Scavetti, and he mentioned your name."

  "I see."

  "I thought perhaps we could have lunch, Ms. Stratton."

  She could feel her heart laboring in her chest, but there didn't seem to be any blood going to her brain. Had there been something snide about the way he said her name? Or was she hearing things that weren't there because she was so terrified?

  "That's very kind,” she managed to say, “but I'm afraid I'm rather busy right now, what with exams and my own research. I couldn't possibly—"

  "I was under the impression you were working with the vampire on the Cowens case."

  Sarah put her head between her legs, forcing the blood to rush back to her brain so she could think. It made breathing more difficult, but she would have fainted otherwise.

  "Are you all right?” Blackwood's oily voice was full of concern.

  "Yes,” she all but gasped. “Yes, I'm sorry. You caught me in the middle of my exercise routine; I'm a bit out of breath is all."

  "Ah. I am sorry to interrupt. We at the Institute believe firmly in a healthful exercise regimen. I myself work out with a trainer regularly, although I do have a weakness for fine food.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh that was as phony as every other word he'd uttered since she had stupidly answered the phone without checking her caller ID. Not that it would have mattered. Blackwood was a persistent man. She remembered that much.

  "Shall we have lunch tomorrow?” he said, proving the accuracy of her impression.

  "Forgive my bluntness, but why, exactly, do you want to have lunch with me?” Sarah asked, reminding herself yet again that she was no longer a scared teenager. She was a grown woman and if she didn't want to have lunch with someone she didn't have to.

  "Well, as you may know, I'm helping my friend William—that is Patricia's father—get through this terrible experience. And as you seemed to have information—"

  "Mr. Gregor is a friend, Mr. Blackwood. We were having dinner, nothing more. I don't know why you would think—"

  "Come now, Susan, there's no need for that with me."

  Sarah's heart jumped so hard, it jolted her into the sharp ridge of stair behind her back. “Pardon me?” she whispered.

  "You hair is somewhat darker and, of course, it's been over ten years, but, if I may say so, you've grown into a lovely woman, Susan.” He repeated her name with emphasis.

  "Don't call me that,” she managed to say with some conviction.

  "Of course,” he said smoothly. “I certainly understand your desire for privacy. The tabloid press has always been intrusive, but now with the Internet scattering images around the world in only moments, they've gotten quite out of hand."

  Sarah found her anger. “Is that a threat, Mr. Blackwood?"

  "I'm offended you would think so,” he protested, but he didn't put any real effort into it. “My only purpose in contacting you is to help a dear friend save his daughter before it's too late.” He paused for calculated effect. “It isn't too late, is it, dear? I mean why else—"

  Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the weight of inevitable destiny bearing down on her. “What is it you want?” she asked dully.

  "A simple meeting. A pleasant lunch perhaps between old friends."

  We're not friends, she thought viciously, but only to herself. Blackwood would be a formidable enemy, and she had little or no defense against the kind of campaign he could wage against her. “When?” she asked.

  "Tomorrow at Chloe's. Say, two o'clock? Noon is so common."

  And Edward Blackwood would never want to be common. “Fine."

  "Marvelous. I'll look forward to it, then. Good afternoon . . . Sarah."

  She sat and listened to the dead air, feeling panic welling up in her chest until it became a physical pain. She wanted to scream in frustration, anger, desperation. Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to talk to someone; she needed to talk to someone. She wanted Raj. But she couldn't have him, because she'd been too stupid, too blind, to see the man behind the vampire before letting her own fears run away with her emotions and taking it all out on him.

  She pulled her knees up and dropped her face into her hands, letting the tears come as the setting sun dropped below the horizon, its fading light shining through her half-open front door.

  It was the sound of voices that woke her. Sarah raised her head. The room was dark and it took her a minute to figure out where she was. She shivered with more than the cold, realizing she'd fallen asleep sitting on the stairs, her door standing half open. Her back ached as she straightened from the uncomfortable position, and she held tightly to the banister when she stood, supporting legs that were cramped from sitting too long. The slamming of a car door made her jump and she hurried to the door, closing and locking it before peering cautiously out the window. But no one was there. She turned on the porch light anyway and wearily climbed the stairs, hoping she would sleep . . . and not dream.

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  Chapter Thirty

  Raj drove up to the warehouse, parking in the shadows between the security lights. Inside, it was dim and quiet. A few of the human guards were lounging in the living area, playing what looked like a video game, headphones on. Em was leaning against one of the SUV's, talking to Yossi's Angel, or rather listening intently to what the much smaller woman was saying. Raj didn't know what Angel's real name was, but given her true age and Japanese ancestry, it was unlikely that it was Angel. To everyone in the vampire community, however, she was Yossi's Angel. She was also one of Raj's best human assets, with a quick mind and an even temper, and training in several martial arts. Perhaps more importantly, she could change her appearance and attitude in remarkable ways. Tonight, she looked like herself, an eighteen year old with black, waist-length hair. When Em saw Raj, she motioned him over. He sighed impatiently and checked his watch, but there was still some time before he could call the West Coast. He walked over, giving Em a questioning glance.

  "Tell our master what you told me,” she said to Angel.

  Angel dropped to one knee. “My lord,” she murmured and waited for permission to speak further. Raj gave Emelie a pained look and gazed down at the perfectly straight line of pale scalp down the middle of Angel's dark head. He hated this vampire shit.

  "Get up, Angel,” he said gently. “And tell me what's going on."

  "Yes, my lord.” She stood with her usual economy of motion. “As instructed, I followed Sarah Stratton throughout the day. She remained home until late morning at which time she traveled to the local university and met with a student, Jennifer Stewart. Jennifer is the room—"


  "I know who she is. Go ahead."

  "Jennifer and Sarah met for lunch. I was unable to hear most of their conversation, as the dining room was extremely noisy. However, as Sarah was leaving, Jennifer called out to her, telling her that you, my lord, could call her at any time.” Angel kept her eyes lowered in embarrassment, clearly thinking Raj was targeting the young human. It reminded him uncomfortably of Sarah's still-fresh accusations. “What else?” he asked too sharply.

  Angel ducked her head briefly and continued. “Sarah was visibly distraught after the meeting. She went directly home, but as she was opening her front door her cell phone rang. In her urgency to answer the phone, she dropped several items and left her door standing open while she talked, so I was able to hear her side of the conversation. It was Edward Blackwood calling her, my lord."

  Raj stiffened to attention. “Blackwood? What did he want?"

  "From what I could deduce, he wanted to meet her. Sarah was clearly reluctant to do so, but did finally agree to a meeting."

  "Details?"

  "Chloe's restaurant at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I have already coordinated with Simon. He will provide a small transmitter which I will contrive to place on Sarah's person. Simon is quite confident that he will be able to record the entire encounter."

  Raj wanted to pound something. Why was Sarah meeting Blackwood? She'd told him he was a family friend, someone she wanted to avoid. Had she lied about that, too? “All right,” he said finally. “You stick close to her tomorrow, Angel. Whatever happens, I don't want her going off with him alone. Em, let's put Simon in close. He can monitor the bug and back up Angel at the same time."

  "Yes, my lord. I've spoken to him, and he'll set up right across the street. Chloe's has windows all along the front, so there's a good chance we'll have a visual, as well."

  "Forgive me, my lord. But there's more."

  Raj looked at Angel. “More?"

  "My lord . . . it would seem, that is, I assume . . ."

  "Just say it, Angel,” he said impatiently, thinking maybe he was a monster if even Angel was afraid to speak openly to him.

  "I don't want to presume, but I thought you'd want to know . . .” She drew a breath through her nose and forged ahead. “After the phone call, she was even more upset. Her front door was still open and I could hear her crying,” Angel said softly, no longer looking at him directly.

  Raj stared at her, his thoughts blanked by a rage that threatened to swamp every ounce of self-control he possessed.

  "Go get some sleep, Angel,” Em said quietly.

  "Yes, ma'am. My lord,” Angel whispered.

  Raj barely registered her departure. His hands were clenched against a nearly overwhelming desire to shove a fist through the gleaming black fender of the SUV next to him, his jaw tightened against a howl of frustration. He looked up and even Em took a backward step at the fury on his face.

  "Who's on Sarah tonight?” he ground out.

  "Cervantes."

  "Get him on the phone.” As Em dialed, Raj turned and stormed toward the exit. Em followed, handing him the phone as they stepped outside. He put it to his ear. “Where is she?"

  "I believe she's retired for the night, my lord. Her door was still open when I arrived, but she closed and locked it soon after. The porch light came on and then the lights upstairs."

  Raj swore softly. She'd left her door hanging open? That wasn't like her, was it? But how the hell would he know? He barely knew her. Damn it. What he wanted to do was rush over to the house and make certain she was safe, but since she clearly counted him among her nightmares, he didn't think a visit from him would make her feel any better.

  "Thanks, Cervantes. Let me know the minute anything changes.” He handed the phone back to Em. “We're going to Corfu and I've a call to make on the way."

  "My lord,” Emelie ventured, “perhaps we should stop by—"

  Raj spun and speared her with a steely gaze. “That wasn't a suggestion, Emelie."

  She caught her breath. “Yes, my lord."

  He strode outside and over to the BMW, yanking open the passenger door and throwing his keys over the roof toward Emelie. “You're driving,” he growled.

  Em caught the keys one-handed and slid into the driver's seat. As she pulled smoothly out of the warehouse parking lot and onto the street, he punched in Duncan's number.

  "What's going on, boss?” she asked.

  He ignored her, staring out the window and thinking about Sarah crying on the stairs of her damn rickety duplex. From his cell phone's speaker, Duncan's voice said, “Good evening, Raj."

  Raj thanked Peter Saephan and disconnected. He'd promised to keep Raphael informed, assuming this matter turned out to be something other than a local dustup.

  "What was that all about, boss?” Em's voice interrupted his thoughts.

  "That was Raphael's pet doctor,” he said casually. Em turned to stare at him. “Watch the road, Em.” She jerked her attention back just in time to avoid running a red light. “I called Duncan last thing this morning. There was a message waiting for me when I woke up tonight."

  "Raphael let you talk to Saephan?"

  The light changed and Raj winced as she floored the accelerator. “He did,” he said, answering her question. And then he shrugged. “If someone really is selling vamp blood, it could come down on all of us. And all I wanted was to ask a few questions."

  "Wow. Maybe he really meant all that alliance bullshit you told me about."

  Raj nodded staring out the window. “Maybe he did."

  "So, what did Dr. Saephan say about our missing researcher?"

  He looked at her. “He says if Edwards is doing this, she'd normally need as many donors as possible, but since it's vamp blood we're dealing with, he thought two or three would do it."

  "Vamps or humans?"

  "Both. He said the choice of women is probably just the vamps’ preference. She can't just use bagged blood for the humans, because the physical bite changes the chemistry."

  Em was staring at the road, listening to every word. “So the women are probably still alive then. That's something."

  "For a while anyway, yeah."

  They turned down Lake Road and the blood house came into view. Raj studied the white clapboard farm house and said softly, “Well, that's an improvement."

  Em's head swiveled his way. “I meant to talk to you about that,” she snapped. “I can't believe you came out here with no backup. What if—"

  Raj gave her a cool glance. “Are you suggesting I'm incapable of defending myself, Emelie?"

  Em blinked and swallowed hard, but held her ground. “Not at all, my lord,” she said formally, but then added with a snarl, “And you know it. But that doesn't mean you're invincible. A simple phone call, that's all I'm asking."

  Raj permitted himself a bare smile. “Done. Can we go inside now, Mommy?"

  "Fuck you,” Em said cheerfully and threw open her door.

  They crossed the uneven lawn together, bypassing an orderly line of club goers waiting for admittance. Two vamp bouncers stood at the door, checking IDs and producing waivers, which were then signed and delivered to a third vamp sitting at a small table just inside. The bouncers gave Em the once over, which she ignored, and nodded respectfully to Raj, holding the crowd back so he could go ahead. The music was just as loud as before, but then everyone seemed to prefer it that way. Why have a blood house in the boonies if you couldn't crank up the sound? There was a steady stream of vamps and humans heading for the private rooms upstairs, and more than a few cries of pleasure emanating from dark corners downstairs. But as long as it stayed inside the house, Raj didn't much care what they did.

  "My lord."

  Raj turned to find Mick waiting for him. When their eyes met, Mick dropped his gaze immediately and bowed from the waist, holding the bow for several seconds before straightening with a grin. “I'm honored at your return, my lord, and with such a lovely companion.” He admired Emelie's shapely form, hi
s appraisal resting somewhere south of her face.

  Em gave Raj a "Can I smack this fucker" look, but, to her obvious disgust, Raj only shook his head in amusement. “My lieutenant, Emelie,” he told Mick. The other vamp's eyes widened slightly at Em's title, and Raj felt the jump in power as the big vampire instinctively challenged Em for her position. He stifled a smirk of satisfaction as Emelie flicked Mick off with a surge of power and a vicious grin. She might look like a runway model, but Em was tough. Certainly tougher than any of Raj's other vampires, and that was saying something.

  Mick stumbled back a step, his expression grim, but he gave Em a grudging nod of acknowledgment and turned back to Raj. “I trust everything is as you wanted, my lord?"

  "Yeah, it looks great. Listen, is there somewhere we can talk?"

  The other vampire's eyes widened in surprise a second time. “This way.” He led them back through the house to what had probably been a closed-in porch at one time, but when Mick closed the door to the house, the loud music shut off as if a switch had been thrown. “A vampire can't think with that racket sometimes,” he joked. “Please, my lord.” He waved at a cluster of chairs, then sat down himself, leaning back and looking completely relaxed, despite his confrontation with Raj only a few nights ago. Raj had noticed this about vampires. They were most comfortable when there was a clear chain of dominance. Mick sat easily under Raj's power as long as Raj demonstrated his superior strength. Problems arose only when there was no obvious hierarchy, or when, as with Krystof, the would-be dominant held the reins so loosely as to be ineffective.

  "So, Mick,” Raj started, “You know why I'm in town, right?

  Mick shrugged. “I know what I've heard. Krystof brought you in to deal with these missing girls because the cops have him worried.” He eyed Raj speculatively. “Jozef thinks it's bullshit. He's not entirely thrilled to have you back."

  "Yeah, I noticed that,” Raj said dryly. “I'm not all that thrilled to be here either.” He had a sudden thought and leaned forward, head cocked curiously. “Jozef doesn't think there's a vamp connection to these crimes?"