No Fear

by Allie Harrison

  “I managed to easily crawl into her dreams last night,” James said.

  Deke raised a brow at that.

  “She was having a nightmare,” James explained. “I only told you so you’d know how easily it can be done. But it confirms your theory.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t think I could multitask and do anything else when I was in her dream, no matter how easy it was for me to be there.”

  “I see.” Deke was thoughtful for a long moment. “Maybe this is taking all his energy because these women aren’t meant for him. I would expect it to be easy for you, since you feel she’s meant for you,” Deke replied, glancing out the window at Emma.

  “She is.” James looked out at her, too, and met her gaze through the glass. She smiled at him again. “And don’t give me any of that crap about walking away and leaving her alone, either. One of these days, you’re bound to touch a woman and know exactly what I’m feeling.”

  “Don’t hold your breath on that one, either, my friend. I’m never letting a woman control me like this one has you for the past five years and probably will forever,” Deke scoffed, but there was amusement in his voice.

  “I wouldn’t say that if I were you. One of these days, I’ll be telling you I told you so.”

  “We’ll see,” was all Deke said.

  “So how do you suppose he’s able to do something equally as powerful as when I crawled into her nightmare? I had to be inches away with my fingers on her temples.”

  “If it was in a public, crowded place, as she said it was, maybe he was that close to her.”

  That was a terrifying thought.

  “In the meantime, I’ll check with a few others and see what I can find out,” Deke went on. Then he placed his hand on James’s arm and stopped him from leaving. “You know, we’ve been together for a long time. You’re more than a friend to me.”

  James grinned, “More than a mentor?”

  “More than family, if you want to get right down to it. I don’t want to find I saved you all those years ago just to see something worse happen to you over her,” Deke glanced out once again at Emma.

  “She’s my heart,” James said simply.

  “So you’ve said, which means she can control your life or your death. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care that if she rejects you, you could die? That’s a lie. Otherwise you would have approached her long before now.”

  “Perhaps,” James said thoughtfully.

  “And what if she dies? You’ll die, too, remember?”

  James nodded. “I couldn’t live without her, anyway.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “Like I said, someday you’ll touch that certain woman and you’ll understand.”

  “I certainly hope not. I like my life uncomplicated.” He looked hard at James. “All I’m saying is, be careful. I know we haven’t felt the usual fear or rush we feel when there’s a vampire close, but this entire situation feels wrong. And if this is, indeed, a vampire and he can do these things without us getting wind of it, it’s hard to know what else he can do.”

  “I know.”

  “And don’t forget, I’m only a phone call away, or a thought, if you want to communicate that way—or are you still able to do that after being out of practice for so long by only using technical things like the cell phone?” Deke teased.

  James grinned again and opened the door.

  He caught Officer Logan finishing with, “And Ghetts fell right in the mud. You should have seen it. I thought I was going to fall over, I was laughing so hard.” He laughed telling the story. “And if looks could kill, the whole department would have died in that moment.”

  Emma chuckled lightly.

  “So what are your plans?” Deke asked, once the two of them were back in the reception area.

  “Emma and I are going to check some things out. Then we’ll probably come back here for a while. Can you stay here in case Ms. Farmington comes in to make her statement?”

  “Sure,” Deke replied.

  “I’ll have my cell phone as well as the radio on. Call me if you need anything,” James went on. “Will you be going to the McComb girl’s funeral?”

  Deke shrugged. “I was thinking about it. Are you?”

  “I don’t know,” James replied honestly. He wanted to see who else would be there, but he didn’t think he should force Emma to go, and he wasn’t leaving her alone. “Logan, as soon as you finish your report, why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

  “Thanks, Chief,” Officer Logan replied before going back to hunt-and-pecking on the keys.

  A short time later, James and Emma were back in the SUV heading toward Glenda Farmington’s duplex.

  “So, how do you become a vampire hunter, anyway? Do you attend vampire hunting 101 at the local university, or what?” Emma asked.

  James looked over at her and smiled, liking that she was attempting to keep things light. He was suddenly glad she’d been able to spend a few moments with Logan and hear that stupid story about Ghetts. It brought some much-needed normalcy to the day.

  “No, I had a mentor,” he explained.

  “Someone taught you, just like that?”

  “Yes, although it took a long time to learn. It isn’t something someone picks up in a day or a week, like cooking.”

  “I see.”

  James noticed she stared straight out in front of them as she spoke. He wanted to hear more of her thoughts and would have asked her to share them with him, but they’d arrived at Glenda Farmington’s duplex.

  Her door had yellow police tape strung across the jamb, hoping to stop anyone from entering. James opened the door and stepped beneath it. Emma followed him.

  “What are we looking for?” she asked in a soft voice. Even with her words low, they still seemed to echo through the empty rooms.

  “I’m not sure,” James admitted. “Any signs of anything out of the ordinary, since we really have no idea what we’re looking for.”

  As quietly as possible, they moved from room to room. The water was still in the plugged tub and sink, but the windows were now closed. The amount of water in both the tub and the sink wasn’t much, perhaps an inch.

  They’d finished their inspection and were almost to the front door when the wind blew against the small house, causing the eaves to shimmer and creak.

  “I think there’s a storm blowing in,” Emma said. “Listen to how strong the wind sounds here.”

  James had his hand on the doorknob and her words stopped him.

  “What?” Emma asked.

  “Just a minute.” He reached for his phone and punched in Deke’s speed dial number.

  Deke didn’t bother with a sweet greeting. “Yeah, James?”

  “Just a quick question,” James said. “You were first on the scene at the Farmington girl’s duplex last night, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Were there any candles lit when you walked in, any sign of fire or flame or smoke, or anything constituting a source of heat?”

  Deke didn’t reply for a moment, apparently considering the question. Then, “No, there wasn’t.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Deke let out a deep breath. “Yes, I’m sure. Why? What are you thinking?”

  “Fire, water, wind . . .”

  “Hell, I didn’t even think of that,” Deke let out. “But then I didn’t notice any candles lit, either.

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything else.” James flipped his phone closed, breaking the connection and looked at Emma.

  “What are you thinking?” Emma asked, echoing Deke’s words and not even knowing it.

  “Let’s take a look at the other side of the duplex first,” he suggested. “If I’m right, I’ll fill you in.”

  The door leading into the other half of the house was locked. James wasn’t surprised, since no one had lived there for months. He could have easily used t
he power of his mind to turn the tumblers and open the lock, but that would take too much explaining to Emma. And now wasn’t the time. So instead, he pulled the tiny set of tools in a pouch from his pocket and picked the lock.

  “Isn’t this called breaking and entering?” Emma asked.

  He opened the door and ushered her in out of the rain. “Now it is,” he replied after the two of them were inside.

  The room was dark. The entire place smelled musty and unused. Emma stood still just inside the door.

  “I don’t like the feel of this place,” she whispered.

  “What kind of feel is it?” he asked, stopping mid-stride on his way into what apparently would be the kitchen.

  Emma looked around and forced down a shiver that clawed its way up her back. “I don’t know,” she said, her words breathy and forced. “It feels like . . .” For a moment, she wasn’t certain what she felt. Then, in a flash, like that of a match being struck, it came to her. “It feels like that room five years ago.” Her chest was instantly tight. She couldn’t breathe. She could barely speak. “He’s here.”

  James was instantly beside her, taking her into his arms. “No, he isn’t. There’s no one here, I promise.” If anyone was here, he would sense them. Besides, his hearing was better than any animal’s, and he heard nothing but the sudden racing of Emma’s heart.

  And what he felt was the cold terror that pulsed through her.

  “Then he’s been here,” she said, her words still breathy and filled with fear. “I don’t want to stay here. I have to get out of here.” She tried to pull out of his grasp.

  He refused to let her go. “Take my hand. It’s just like facing the dark,” he said to her. He didn’t give her the chance to refuse him. He took hold of her hand and held it tightly, working to ground her, to help her stay in control, to remind her she wasn’t facing this alone. Her feeling, her connection with this creature, told him that it had been in this room. His own keen senses told him the monster was no longer here, but that didn’t mean he might not still be close or watching. They couldn’t afford to have Emma losing control or running out of the duplex where he just might be waiting to grab her a second time. And if this creature, this vampire could speak into her thoughts, her loss of control would make her more vulnerable. “You can do this, Emma. I’m right here with you, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Take a deep breath.”

  She took several.

  “Better?” he asked after a moment.

  “Yes, I’m not so dizzy. But I don’t want to stay here. This place feels so much like that other room where he kept me tied up that I feel like the walls are closing in.”

  “We’ll get out of here as quickly as we can. I promise,” he said softly.

  With her hand in his, they moved from room to room. At the bedroom door, Emma stopped. “It’s strongest here,” she whispered.

  James looked at her through the dim light seeping in through the windows and saw that she’d regained her composure.

  “I’m going to let go of your hand. Stay right here. I’m just going to look around.”

  “Okay,” she replied.

  James let go of her. She might be in control again, but he couldn’t help noticing the way she stood perfectly still, stiff as a board, not touching the doorjamb or anything else. And she kept her gaze on him.

  It was in the corner against the wall that divided the house in two, the same wall that was shared by the bedroom on the other side—Glenda Farmington’s bedroom.

  It was what was left of a large, fat, single candle, the wick black and burned low. And beside it was a small clay pot of dirt with no plant in it. There was also a cheap, folding lawn chair near the wall.

  Emma saw the candle and plant pot the same moment James did.

  “What do they mean?” she asked.

  “They’re signs,” James said slowly, feeling a ray of hope for the first time since he’d seen Jillian McComb’s terrified expression.

  “Signs of what?” She sounded almost too afraid to ask.

  “Signs that tell us just how strong he really is. Or better yet, how strong he isn’t.” James came back to her, his footsteps sounding loud and out of place in the quiet. He took her hand again.

  “What do you mean?”

  He smiled down at her as he headed back to the kitchen area, taking her with him. “They tell us he’s not quite as powerful as we first thought. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Never letting go of her hand, he led them back outside.

  “Would you care to explain that?” Emma asked, once they were back in the SUV. She was colder than ever. That dark apartment had touched her with a piercing chill she couldn’t shake off. She hugged herself, searching for heat from the coat she wore and from the heater that James had turned up all the way. Her jaws ached as she fought to keep her teeth from chattering. The temperature outside was not that cold. The rain and wind were brisk, but on a normal day, it still wouldn’t be this intolerable.

  It was the terror that made her so cold. It was her memory of the terror she’d experienced five years ago, brought on by being in that empty bedroom, that made Emma feel chilled to the bone. She felt the urge to climb into bed, cover up her head and shut out the cold and the rest of the world. She longed for the warmth of the water in her pool, feeling as if a million tiny, dirty bugs crawled over her skin.

  “I thought he could simply send thoughts or images to others, making them see things that weren’t there so he could feed on the fear he gave them. If he could do that, it would make him a very powerful being,” James explained.

  Emma noticed he didn’t use the word vampire, and she was glad. “But?”

  “But it appears he needs the powers of the earth to send his images.”

  “The powers of the earth?”

  “Fire, water, wind and earth.” James glanced at her.

  “I understand the power of water, because the water in my pool invigorates and refreshes me, makes me feel clean. It always gives me energy,” Emma said.

  When James pulled over to the side of the street and stopped, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Searching for the middle seat belt so you can sit closer to me,” he explained as he began his search.

  “I think I’ll be all right,” she insisted. “I’m just cold. I can’t seem to get warm since we went into that empty apartment.”

  “I see that,” he said flatly. “At least sit next to me so I can help warm you. And before we go to the cemetery, I’ll swing by the station and get you some hot tea or hot chocolate. I don’t need you going into shock or something.”

  “I’d rather just get the cemetery thing over, if you don’t mind,” she said. “Explain about the fire and water and stuff.” Talking about that was much easier than actually facing the terror. Listening to James’s voice was even easier. She changed her mind about the need to swim in her pool. What she really needed was to swim in her pool with James, needed to listen to him talk to her all day and all night.

  “Just like the energy you feel in the water in your pool, there’s energy in all of those things—fire, the earth itself, water and wind,” he said. “Somehow, he’s learned to channel it, combine it, make it work together with the bad vibes or bad thoughts—whatever you want to call them—that he has, and then the powers give him the ability to send those thoughts out to his victims to experience. It’s hard to explain how it works, but knowing that he can’t send his thoughts without these things tells me he’s weaker than I first imagined,” James explained. “Here’s the belt, scoot over here next to me.”

  She unfastened her seat belt and moved over next to him, fastening herself back in.

  Without hesitation, he put his arm around her and held her close as he maneuvered back onto the street, heading to the cemetery. Emma moved comfortably into his embrace and allowed his heat to warm her.

  “It also helps us to know he has to know his victims well enough to ascertain their fears,” James went on, hold
ing her comfortably and driving with one hand.

  “What do you mean?” She snuggled closer to him, wanting only to curl up in his arms and stay there forever.

  “Well, most people, probably eighty to ninety percent at least, are afraid of snakes in some way, but one, two or even three snakes aren’t enough to send the average person into cardiac arrest. And as for cemeteries, well, they’re typically creepy places, too, but stepping into one usually doesn’t cause anyone to die from fright, either.”

  Emma looked up at his profile. “You think he was just sitting there on the other side of Glenda’s wall with his candle lit, knowing exactly where she was and what she was doing, knowing where to make her see snakes and how many?”

  “Yes, knowing just what it took for her to reach her limit of terror. And all the time, he was simply feeding off the fear she felt before she died,” James finished. He understood then why he hadn’t felt either of the victims’ fear and why he didn’t feel this vampire. “He channels fear directly to his victim, then feeds off of it as he kills her. It’s like a current of electricity going out and come right back to him,” James explained. He would need to call Deke at the first opportunity and tell him.

  “What else do you think he can do?” Emma asked.

  James didn’t like the flatness of her voice. He held her closer and breathed in the soft scent of her hair. “It’s hard to say. If he were a newly transformed—”

  Emma knew what he’d been about to say. “Being,” she quickly substituted.

  “Being,” he repeated, glancing toward her, one brow arched, then back to the road. “Then he would be predictable, knowing he needed blood and that he would be burned by the sun. But it doesn’t take long to adapt, and it doesn’t take long to learn knew abilities and techniques, if one is willing to give up the thirst for blood and adapt.”

  “So I know you said that vampires—okay, I said it—vampires don’t have to sleep, so there’s no sleeping in coffins all day. I guess I should feel better that we don’t have to creep down into any dark cellar and search for a coffin, but what about some of the other ideas like flying like bats at night?” she asked.