James heard the way she tried to make light of the question while still maintaining the needed seriousness, given the situation. “It’s mostly myth. It came about centuries ago,” he explained. “There were men—non-vampires—who desired and liked the taste of human blood.”
Emma let out a sound of distaste.
“You have to understand that before modern science and technology and medicine, men believed a number of things that were somewhat true, but not necessarily completely true,” James went on.
“Like what?”
“Well, like the development of wanting or needing blood came from the idea that blood held the properties of life.” He glanced over at her and saw that his words had her deep in thought. He went on before she could ask any more questions. “People didn’t know what was in blood, such as plasma or cells or iron or oxygen, etcetera, or what its true function was, but they did know that the heart pumped it throughout the body and if it was allowed to spill out, the person died. So it was assumed that blood, in fact, gave a person life. And these men who drank it thought it would give them longer or better lives. Of course, they couldn’t just go around in broad daylight cutting people open and sucking out their blood, so they became hunters in the darkness. And because they were thought to be evil, they were hunted and had to become quick movers. They became so quick and agile that it was thought they could fly like bats in the dark.”
“I see. And you learned all of this from your vampire-hunter mentor?” Emma had to ask.
“Yes, and as I told you, I’ve studied them,” he replied shortly.
“But why have you studied them? I know you killed others the night you rescued me, but what about before that? Did one of them hurt someone you love?”
James was quiet for a long moment as he contemplated what to tell her. “He hurt you,” he replied quietly, choosing not to give her any details of his own life or his past. He knew she was in no way ready to face that part of him.
His words caught in Emma’s heart. And they expressed the true meaning of his feelings for her in a way nothing else could. His words and the memory of his kisses and the way he looked so deeply into her eyes sent a tingle through her all the way to her soul. It had been so long since she’d felt so many emotions. This ordeal might be terrible. It was, indeed, the second most horrific thing she’d been forced to face. And she might be freezing cold, feeling as if she’d never again be warm, yet it had been five long years since she’d felt so alive.
Emma could think of no reply. So she sighed heavily and leaned her head against his shoulder. And a short time later, she fought to keep her heart from racing as he drove through the open gates of the cemetery.
The rain was heavier as they climbed out, bigger drops landing hard and cold on Emma’s cheeks as she looked up at the sky.
“It’s so cold here, too,” she said. “And it has nothing to do with the rain.”
James took her hand. “Do you want to wait in the car?”
“No,” she lied. She wanted nothing more than to stay in the car where the small amount of warmth could at least touch her, but she didn’t want to even be inches out of James’s reach. She didn’t want to be where she couldn’t hear his voice. It was his voice that grounded her time and time again.
They moved slowly past the vaults and the stones. There was a new vault open and waiting for Jillian McComb next to her sister. “I feel for her brother, having to bury his sisters like this, one year apart,” Emma said softly.
“I feel for him, too. He was pretty confused when I talked with him the other day,” James replied.
Their search ended when they discovered the candle wax at the end of the row, behind an old vault. The puddle of water wasn’t big, but it would soon grow under the raindrops, and it was obvious the puddle had been there since before today’s rain started. Emma shivered as she stood so close to the spot where the vilest creature she could even imagine had hidden while Jillian McComb lived and died while experiencing her worst nightmare.
“He crouched right there,” she pointed out. “I remember what you said about his knowing where I am all the time and that you’re certain this monster is the same one who hurt me. Now I’m certain, too, because I feel him and where’s he’s been. But, James, what if we’re wrong? What if this isn’t the same one from five years ago and we’re letting our fear get in the way of our thinking?” she asked, feeling as if her insides were shaking with terror. “I mean, if there were so many transformed, as you call it, that night five years ago, there could be hundreds, even thousands.”
“There’s always that possibility,” James was forced to admit. He didn’t share his concern that they hadn’t seen—nor had he sensed since then—a single newly transformed vampire, and neither had Deke. Was this creature merely feeding on emotions, or did he have something worse in mind? “Either way, no matter what this creature is, he’s obviously dangerous,” James pointed out. “And he touches you with the coldness of his evil. So what does that tell you?”
She took a deep breath and shivered as a large drop of rain landed on her cheek and moved tear-like down her face. “It tells me he makes me sick to my stomach. Is there any possibility that he just came here for these two young women and now he’s done and will leave the island, move on to somewhere else?”
“I suppose there is always that possibility,” James replied, feeling as if it were the first true lie he’d spoken to her. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that vampires were like sharks, and when they found the perfect hunting ground, they weren’t likely to leave unless there was nothing left to hunt or they were chased out or destroyed. And this island, with its isolation and its trusting population, was the perfect hunting ground. No, if James had to guess, he’d say this creature had been on the island some time, at least long enough to intimately get to know two women and gain their trust. But if James was right, this being had been on the island longer than that. He’d probably spent some time developing his psychic abilities, and now that he’d been able to reach the point of killing with them, there would be no turning back. For just as vampires were like sharks, they could also be like drug addicts; once the hard drugs were tried and enjoyed, there was seldom any going back to the small, easy stuff.
James opened the SUV door for her and waited as she climbed in. As he walked around the vehicle, he called Deke and relayed his conclusions. He paused to finish the conversation before climbing in. “He’s channeling emotions,” he explained. “That’s why we never felt their fear. He makes them see things that terrify them, then sucks them dry of the emotions.”
“Like a closed electrical circuit,” Deke put in.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Where are you now?” Deke asked.
“Leaving the cemetery. We’ve already been to Glenda Farmington’s apartment, too.”
“Definitely keep in touch,” Deke said.
James didn’t like the concern he heard in Deke’s voice. And the smile he gave Emma as he hung up and climbed in felt terribly false.
“What are you thinking?” he asked once they were both tucked back in the SUV’s dryness.
“I’m still considering the idea of packing a bag and skipping to the mainland for a while,” Emma admitted.
As if in reply, a flash of lightning lit the sky and distant thunder answered. “I doubt there will be any ferries coming or going,” James said, looking at the dark approaching clouds.
Chapter Twelve
Stormy Weather
James wished he and Emma could stay in the SUV forever, with the rest of the world and its horrors and the storm locked outside. Unfortunately, he could only keep her tucked in the warmth of the vehicle for the distance it took to reach the police station. “I’d rather take you home, but I need to be in the station for a while and at least appear like everything is normal,” he explained before they quickly climbed out and dashed through the rain.
“I know,” she said.
“I can take you home later.�
��
“I should be at the clinic with Doc.”
“I trust Doc, but I’d feel better if you stayed with me; and despite the fact that this creature may be a different one, I don’t want to take any chances. Besides, the clinic is a very public place.” The fact that this vampire had continued to speak into her mind put James on edge, but he refused to let her see it. If the vampire could speak to her mentally, could he read her thoughts just as easily?
“Thanks,” she said, looking over at him and giving him a small smile. “Can I get something warm to drink?”
“Of course.” He held her hand, lacing his fingers between hers as they made their way to the awning that protected the door from the rain. Her hand was so small, he thought, and cold. He tried to send his warmth into her, but knew it wasn’t working.
The police station was quiet. Officer Logan was gone. Officers Jackson and Hayes were both out on patrol. Susan, the receptionist-slash-dispatcher, was sitting at her desk thumbing through a magazine, and she informed him that Deke had left a half hour before and that Ms. Farmington had called to say she would make her statement when the rain had stopped. Emma knew Susan. She’d administered a tetanus shot to Susan last summer after pulling a nail out of the bottom of the woman’s left foot.
“Hi, Emma,” Susan said, looking up. She appeared just as surprised to see Emma with James as Officer Logan had been, but she didn’t voice that surprise.
“Hi,” Emma replied, sitting down in the chair beside Susan’s desk. Susan had long red hair, a very pointed nose, the brownest eyes and the quickest pretty smile Emma had ever seen.
“Are you going to Jilly’s funeral today?” Susan asked.
“I’d like to, but I can’t,” Emma replied, working to sound disappointed by the idea. The truth was she’d seen all she wanted to see of the cemetery for a very long time. She didn’t think she could stand out in the rain for the length of the funeral without having a heavy blanket wrapped around her. And although she’d thought highly of Jillian McComb, if she went, she’d only be thinking about what Jilly had seen that was enough to frighten her to death. “What about you, are you going?” Emma asked.
“Yes, the Chief said I could leave at ten.” She glanced out the window before she continued. “I sure hope the storm holds off until then. A little rain isn’t bad, but the latest report that came over the radio says this incoming storm’s a really bad one.”
James joined them and set a cup down in front of Emma. She took a sip and found it was very, very sweet hot tea.
“I heard there was a storm on the way, and the clouds are certainly gathering, but do you think we should batten down the hatches, Susan?” James asked.
“I’m thinking so, Chief. Take a look at this.” Susan turned to the computer on her desk and brought up the radar of the weather approaching the island. The large swirl of white slowly making its way to Medusa’s Island confirmed her opinion.
“Call John Phillips at the radio station and ask him to broadcast this,” he instructed.
“I already did, and he already has.”
“Good,” James replied. At least the residents of the island would be aware of the approaching storm and could be prepared.
Emma felt strange simply sitting and sipping tea, so she looked at James and said, “I’m going to give Doc a call and make sure he doesn’t need me. May I use your phone?”
“Sure. Use the one in my office. I don’t like to tie up Susan’s phone, and it will give you privacy if you and Doc need to discuss a patient,” James said, noticing that Emma left her cup of tea sitting on Susan’s desk when she got up and headed for his office. He fought down the urge to pick it up and follow her to make sure she drank more than one swallow.
But instead of following her, he stared out the window at the rain. He didn’t like the idea of the storm moving in. Storms held so much energy. Yet, at the same time, it would send every resident of the island, except for those who had no choice, indoors, safe from the predator. It would also keep that predator here, where James could catch him. There would be no escape like the last time.
He focused his hearing on Emma, who was now on the phone in his office several yards away.
“Are you sure you can do it without me?” he heard her ask.
His hearing was keen enough that he could hear Doc’s reply. “I was doing surgery and cutting people open while you were still chasing boys in grade school. Stay with James. If I need you, I’ve got his number. Besides, Mary Lou has agreed to stay.” James knew Mary Lou, one of Doc’s nurses. She was an older woman who lived alone on the west side of the island.
There was urgency in Doc’s voice. “Mary Lou and I can handle this.” He sounded like a stern father. “You’ll be safer with James, and I’ll get this autopsy done much faster not having to worry about you. Hopefully, we’ll then have more answers and the monster behind this can be stopped.”
James thought it was so strange how instinct worked. Doc had nothing, no proof of anything substantial, yet he had a gut feeling a monster had caused these deaths. Likewise, James and Emma had no real proof, nothing more than candle wax, and yet, he simply knew, as Doc apparently did, that danger was close and probably coming closer.
Emma turned and caught his gaze before she said good-bye and hung up the phone. James smiled at her, but the smile felt false. For just as he knew the danger was coming, he also knew that because it had been focused on her in the past, it might very well be focused on her again.
A few moments later, Emma sat in his office with him. She drank her tea while he filed a few reports and checked over work left from the previous shift. He was going to have to talk to Ghetts again. The patrolman had written out seven tickets for the previous night. He even caught old Mrs. Winston and ticketed her for doing forty-eight in a forty-five mile an hour zone. He refrained from letting out a frustrated huff and stuffed the ticket copies into the ticket folder before he got on the radio and contacted his patrolmen. One fortunate thing about the coming storm, it slowed people down, made them cautious. The patrolmen hadn’t had to write out one single ticket, and James was elated to hear there were no accidents. He couldn’t help grinning at the thought that if Ghetts had been on patrol, he would have found a reason to write out a ticket or two.
He picked up the file on Jillian McComb and filed it in the file drawers behind his desk, knowing full well he might never find the actual proof needed to close the case for good. Besides, what would his colleagues think if he wrote a report and concluded that a vampire—a vampire who didn’t drink her blood, but merely sucked the life out of her by using the emotion of fear—had murdered her? None of the present officers had been on the island five years ago. Deke hadn’t even been here until James telepathically called him for help. But by the time Deke arrived from Europe, things had cooled down and James had sensed no other vampires. James, of course, had stayed for Emma. But because neither of them had ever caught the alpha vampire, the one who had brought evil to the island and started it all, Deke had stayed, too. At least that was the excuse he often gave. James thought he’d stayed, because the quiet life and the beautiful beaches appealed to him as it did to so many other people.
Again, James thought of the vampire that hunted here. Would anyone else believe him—besides Deke? He doubted it. Not unless they saw it for themselves, and even then, as he was well aware, most people would choose not to believe it.
But what if he was wrong? What if Jillian McComb had had some hidden heart trouble that Doc had missed?
The look of terror on her face told him the only thing wrong with her heart had been that it couldn’t beat past the fear coursing through her.
No, he wasn’t wrong.
He looked at Emma, who sat in the chair next to his desk and paged through the same magazine Susan was looking at when they’d arrived at the station. She didn’t look up at him, which allowed him to stare at her. He still couldn’t believe she was here with him. He had waited five years for her, five long years.<
br />
And now that she was with him, he was terrified for her. Would he be able to protect her?
Susan, standing in the doorway with her umbrella in hand, interrupted his thoughts. “Do you mind if I leave a few minutes early? It’s raining pretty steadily.”
“No, go ahead, and be careful,” James replied. She turned to leave, and then turned back to him when he said, “And Susan? Go home afterwards and stay there with everything closed up and locked tight until after the storm is over.”
Emma looked up at him. She understood his meaning. He wasn’t just referring to the storm. He wanted everyone safe behind locked doors until after the danger was past.
“Thanks,” Susan said. “See you guys later. Don’t get too wet.”
The rain was steady and hard, but the storm had not yet formally taken hold of the island. Emma had no doubt the funeral would be a miserable, wet affair.
At about a quarter of twelve, when he was certain Emma was probably bored out of her mind, James said, “Why don’t you call Dinah’s Diner and order some lunch? As soon as I’m done checking this final report and writing the usual highlights for the newspaper, we’ll drive up and eat.”
“All right,” Emma replied. She reached for his phone and the nearby phone book. “What do you want?”
“The deluxe cheeseburger platter.”
“Maybe I’ll try that too.”
“You’ll like it,” he told her.
“Do you want to eat there, or get it to go?” she asked, dialing.
“You choose,” he suggested.
Emma called and placed their orders, deciding to order them to go. If they got there and chose to stay, they could always eat out of the boxes, but if they chose to take it with them, it would be ready.
James wondered how hard it was going to be to get Emma to eat something, but it wasn’t hard to get her to order. Perhaps if he enticed her to take it back to Doc’s house and eat sitting beside the pool where she felt safe and comfortable, she would be more likely to eat.
No Fear Page 17
